


Earth and Rebirth

by TheBeckster



Category: Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns, 牧場物語つながる新天地 | Story of Seasons
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Friends to Lovers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I'm not going to tag every single character, Minor Character Death, Multi, New friends and found family, Pregnancy, Realistic morning period, Slow Burn, Undecided Relationship(s), Unplanned Pregnancy, but they will all have a part in the story, lots of headcanons, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeckster/pseuds/TheBeckster
Summary: Holly considered herself fortunate to be living about as close to the dream as any young twenty-something could. A great family, a loving husband, and well, she'd admit their apartment was awful, but they'd be moving onto bigger and better things soon enough. She truthfully couldn't wish for more. But when an accident rips it all away from her, Holly finds herself seeking a change of scenery. Her Uncle's farm out in the middle of nowhere is the perfect place for her to hide to mourn.A familiar story with a twist or two.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I got Trio of Towns for Christmas and immediately fell in love. I'm not exactly sure why, but this idea struck me and just wouldn't let go. I've been sitting on it for a while, but figured it was worth posting to see how it goes.
> 
> I've taken a few creative liberties with things such as architecture and the actual farms themselves, but nothing outrageous.
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a rapid-fire crash course in backstory, I promise the following chapters won't be as jumpy.
> 
> I still have not figured out what I want the endgame ship to be. I love all of the marriage candidates and I can't choose! Such a decision many or many not be up to reader feedback in the end.
> 
> Either way. I hope you all enjoy this little contribution to this little fandom!
> 
> -Becks

* * *

 

**Chapter One**

 

 

“Honey, don’t you think you're rushing things a little?” Marlena asked with her arms crossed while she watched her daughters paw through the racks of dresses.

“Yes, but no,” Holly said as she held up a rosy pink dress for inspection. She made a wry face at it and put it back on the rack. “Bruce and I know were making the right decision. We're meant for each other, Mom.”

“But you've only been dating for six months,” Marlena protested.

“But we’ve known each other for much longer. And how long were you and Daddy dating before you knew you wanted to be together forever?” Holly shot her mother a semi-reproachful look over the clothing rack but with a teasing smirk pulling at her lips.

Marlena sighed in defeat. She bowed her head to hide her smile. “It was our fourth date.”

“And you say I'm rushing things.”

“But your father and I dated for a year and a half before he proposed.”

“Only because Daddy couldn’t take a hint. I know this is right for us. Bruce is the man I want to put down roots with. I want to be with him.”

“But a courthouse wedding? Holly, wouldn't you want to wait a little longer and plan something more momentous?”

Holly shrugged, passing over more dresses. “Bruce doesn't have family, and I don't really have many friends in the area. Why waste the time and money when the only people we want there is you and Daddy and Lynn?”

Marlena still looked unconvinced as she pulled out a horrifying brown and gold floral-print dress. “And this wedding isn't for... uh... shotgun purposes?”

Holly nearly rolled her eyes into the back of her skull. “We're being more careful than that. Bruce is still in school and we have no intentions of trying for children until after he graduates.”

Mollified, Marlena smiled at her eldest daughter. “Alright, honey. If this is what you want. How about this one?” She held up a cobalt blue, satin number.

Holly considered it for a second. “Hmmm... that's a possibility. Add it to the try-on pile.”

“Holly, Holly! What about this one?” Lynn came tottering around a rack holding up an emerald green dress as far over her head as she could. The dress was longer than she was tall and it was all she could do to not trip on the hem.

“Oh Lynn, that's beautiful!” Holly gasped, snatching the dress up for a better look. “It's even Bruce's favorite color!” She held it up against her chest to get a better idea of the length. “What do you think, Mom?”

Marlena smiled. It was a beautiful dress, a flattering cut, and the satiny fabric made it look quite formal. “The green really makes your eyes sparkle, and you hair looks even more golden.”

Holly beamed, and hurried off to the dressing rooms. “I gotta try it on.”

 

Holly's wedding was an intimate, quiet affair. She wore the green dress while Bruce wore a suit with a matching tie. She had a bouquet from the first florist they found near the courthouse. And before a judge and her family, she and Bruce pledged their love to each other. Afterwards, her father treated them all to dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in the city.

It was all Holly could have dreamed for in her wedding. Big white dresses and day-long ordeals had never been her style. Those were more for people with big families and tons of friends.

The next day her parents helped her move her stuff into Bruce's tiny apartment, and the newlyweds settled into wedded bliss.

Their honeymoon consisted of three uninterrupted days of putting the apartment back together. Holly could only get a few days off work from her retail job. Bruce had summer classes starting up the next week.

As they settled into a married lifestyle, Holly found herself pleasantly surprised. She knew there would be an adjustment period of getting used to each other's domestic mannerisms, all couples went through that phase, but she and Bruce seemed to completely skip it. They fit together like matching puzzle pieces and her home with Bruce became her sanctuary.

Quite frankly, Holly hated her job, the work was soulless, but it paid the bills. The long days on her feet and rude customers didn’t matter much when she got to come home to help Bruce with his studies. She had managed to coax a nearly-dead fern back to life on their kitchen windowsill. The florist shop next to her own place of work had given up on it and let her take it for free. With a little love and sunshine it grew greener as summer’s days turned to fall. Bruce had teased her when she insisted on naming it, but they did eventually settle on Stanley. Bruce absolutely refused to name it Seymour or Audrey II, claiming that that was just asking for trouble. Holly jokingly scolded him for having such little faith in their first child.

 

Holly's 21st birthday feel right in the middle of fall semester midterm week, but Bruce found the time to bring her flowers and wine and take her out for dinner. Really it was all she could have asked for.

 

Their six month anniversary gift to each other was their wedding rings. Nothing too ostentatious – that didn’t really fit either of them. Bruce’s wedding band was gold with a simple, yet elegant design engraved around it. Holly’s ring had a little diamond nestled into a gold band. They were prefect, and they didn’t break the bank.

 

December was mild, and New Year’s rode in on that warm wave as the couple watched distant firework displays from the roof of their apartment building. The spring semester was only couple weeks old when a blizzard swept into town and snowbound the entire city for several days. The newlyweds didn’t mind. They spend the days cozied up under blankets, trying to stay warm while the heat and power in the building alternated failing. Holly fantasized about the house they could get out in the country once Bruce graduated at the end of the semester and got a job. Bruce admitted that he preferred the city, it would be easier for his line of work. They compromised on a house in the suburbs – one with room for a big garden.

 

The beginning of February brought an unexpected thaw a few days before Bruce's birthday. Holly found herself in a positively balmy mood while she picked up groceries. She was going to make lasagna for Bruce for his birthday. It was his favorite, and she was dying to try her hand at her mother's coveted recipe. She had already called Marlena twice to double check the ingredients. She was rather happy her mom would be coming by to help her cook. Holly wasn't a terrible cook, but she wanted this lasagna to be perfect, so supervision by the Master was required.

By the time 6 rolled around, Holly was a bit frazzled, but quite happy. She was kind of pushing the time limit for having the lasagna fresh from the oven just as Bruce got home from class, but her mom assured her everything would be perfect. She enjoyed spending the afternoon cooking and gossiping with her mother. It was something she had missed dearly after moving out.

“Now remember,” Marlena said as she wrapped foil around her own pan of uncooked lasagna. “Uncover the pan for the last fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, Mom, I've got it now.” Holly waved her page of meticulous notes on crafting the perfect lasagna.

Marlena smiled and pulled her daughter into a one armed hug. “Tell, Bruce happy birthday for us.” She pecked her daughter on the cheek. “We'll see you on Saturday for dinner.”

There was a knock on the apartment door. Both women looked confused for a moment. “I wonder who that is?” Holly asked, starting for the door.

The knock came again, rather insistently.

“Hold your horses,” Holly muttered as she unlocked the door. “Yes, can I help you?” She asked as the door swung open.

A sober faced police officer stood in the doorway with his hat in hand. “Mrs. Greene?” He asked in a gruff, but quiet voice.

“Yes.”

“My name is Officer Goshawk... I'm afraid I have some bad news.”

 

Looking back, Holly didn't remember much of what happened for several weeks after that. Most details got filled in later. Words like "terrible accident" and "tragic loss" got thrown around a lot alongside meaningless condolences.

The funeral was a blur. As was the meeting with the other driver's attorney. The accident had been pretty open and shut as several other drivers were involved and there were plenty of witnesses. Some pickup truck driver got distracted and his truck swerved over the center line. Bruce's ancient little coup never stood a chance. He was declared DOA. They wouldn't let Holly see the body. Her father took care of the identification and arranged the cremation. Bruce was returned to her in a simple urn. His wedding ring was tucked into a small manila envelope. Holly dug up an old necklace and replaced its pendant with the ring.

She didn’t cry. Holly remembered that. When she got the news, of course she had cried, but for the funeral and other arrangements, her eyes stayed mysteriously dry. It was strange, considering Holly felt like her life had come to an end with Bruce’s. Of all the things that were actually worth crying over, she couldn't.

She couldn't stand to be in their apartment alone. So she and Stanley moved back in with her parents. Her shitty retail job told her that she was taking too much time for bereavement, and they let her go. The few mutual friends she and Bruce shared disappeared after the funeral – ‘classes didn’t stop and Holly needed space’ they said.

Holly spent weeks just lying in her bed, staring at Bruce’s ring, only getting up to eat and such and even that was infrequently. Her mother tried to get her out of bed to help cook, or up and out of the house for some short errands, but Holly didn't want to go. She didn't want to go into that damned city that had given her every happiness and then stolen it away. Sometimes Lynn had to bodily drag her sister out of bed and to the dinner table.

Stanley withered and died after a few weeks of neglect. Holly just lay in bed and watched the fern waste away.

It took her weeks to realize her period hadn't come. She knew grief could do things to a body, but Holly had to be sure. She dragged herself to the pharmacy while Marlena was running other errands and Lynn was at school.

 

"It's not fair!" Holly wailed into her mother's shoulder.

"I know, honey." Marlena soothed, as she held her daughter tighter on the bathroom floor.

"I don't want to do this without him!  I h-h-hate everything!"

Marlena had nothing to say that could be of comfort. So she helped her daughter to bed and held her until she cried herself to sleep.

 

Later that night, Marlena broke the news to her husband after Lynn had been put to bed.

"Oh, poor Holly!" Daryl had said, unable to fully articulate the turmoil of emotions in his heart.

Marlena nodded, understanding her husband's unspoken sentiments. She let silence fall between them for a moment, while she wrung her hands, as if turning over the plan she had come up with. It had been in the back of her mind now for days, but with the pregnancy now as a factor, it felt like the right thing to do. They had to do something to help Holly or this grief would consume their daughter.

"I think Holly would benefit from spending some time away from the city," Marlena proposed hesitantly.

"Where would she go?" Daryl asked incredulously. "We're her family. She needs us now more than ever."

"I know, but... I don't think this city is good for her. Maybe she needs a change of scenery. And we aren't her only family. Frank has been inviting us to visit for years now."

"You want to send her out to Westown?"

Marlena nodded. "I think a month or two away from everything would do her good. It'll be a complete change of pace."

"Change of pace might be a bad thing, considering."

"Daryl, if Holly doesn't change soon we are going to lose our daughter. She's barely eating as is and she's not processing the loss very well." Marlena stopped and bit her lip. "We can't let her continue like this or she's going to have to be hospitalized."

"It sounds to me like you're just trying to send our daughter far away so she can be unwed and pregnant without embarrassing you."

"Daryl! What century do you think we live in?"

Daryl deflated somewhat "I'm sorry, that was an overreaction. I just... I don't want her to be sent away from us when she needs us."

"I would never send Holly away! She'd only be gone for a few weeks, we're not disowning her. But she's lost everything, she has no energy, no spark. This baby only pushed her farther into despair. Something has to be done. She’s wasting away. I can’t bear to see her like this! I don't want to hospitalize her, but I don't know what else to do to help her." Marlena wiped away the tears gathering in her eyes. She reached for the stack of letters on the table in front of her, and fished the most recent one out. She waved it weakly between the two of them.  "Frank is already in the loop. And I think Holly spending some time with him will be a good thing for her. She loved everything about farms when she was young, remember? The change of scenery and location and the schedule of farm life might be exactly what she needs to help her process her grief and continue mourning."

Daryl sighed. "You may be right. And Frank wouldn't mind watching after Holly for a few weeks. He always liked helping people. I'll write to him and see what he thinks about a long term visitor."

 

“Your Uncle Frank is really excited to see you, honey.” Marlena said as she held her daughter tight.

The whole family stood huddled on the train station platform, mid-February had brought a bitter chill and the four of them stood shivering together.

“At least Westown is in a milder climate,” Daryl offered as he shifted his grip on Holly’s suitcase. “Frank says he can grow some crops in the winter. Plus there are his animals and such. I think you’ll really enjoy your time there, Holly.”

Holly managed to muster a nod and a half-interested smile just as the train pulled into the station. Her mother pulled her into another hug. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

“It’s only for a few weeks, honey, one, two months tops. A change of scenery will be good for you.” Marlena held her daughter out at arm’s length. “We love you, Holly, and we’ll write to you all the time.”

“You’re going to have a great time with your Uncle Frank.” Daryl said, sweeping his daughter into a quick hug.

“I’ll miss you, Hols,” Lynn said, completing the hugs.

The boarding call went out. Holly took her suitcase from her father, and reluctantly stepped onto the train. This train would take her to a suburb station where she’d transfer to a train taking her out to a country station. From there she’s catch a stagecoach out to Westown where Uncle Frank would meet her. It was going to be a long, long day of travel.

 

Frank had wrapped up his chores hours ago. The house was all prepped for Holly’s visit, and he had ingredients for dinner ready and waiting. Now he just had to wait another four hours for Holly’s coach to get in. He could while away the time working on a project or practicing his guitar but there was someone he wanted to talk to first.

It was a short trek to Megan’s farm, and he could see his neighbors out in their pasture. Hector and Megan were mending a fence. Off near the house, Colin was playing with their dog – an overly-friendly avalanche of white fluff by the name of Buddy.

“Afternoon, Frank!” Megan called out as he wandered over.

“Afternoon Megan, Hector. Y’all got a minute?” Frank took his hat off and fidgeted with the brim. Megan and Hector were his closest neighbors and friends, but there were some wounds he just didn’t want to pick at.

“Sure thing,” Megan said, still smiling. “What’s eatin’ you?”

“I need some advice. You remember my niece Holly’s comin’ to visit, right?”

 

Holly was jerked from her doze as the stagecoach came to a stop. She barely had time to gather her wits before the door was open, letting in a cold gust of air and the coachman was offering his hand to help her out.

“We’re at Westown, miss.”

“Thank you,” Holly said quietly as she stepped out of the coach and right into five inches of snow. _Milder climate, my ass!_ She thought sourly as she retrieved her suitcase from the driver. She paid him, and he tipped his hat to her before climbing back into the driver’s seat and ushering his horses forward again. Holly felt a little bad for him. He wasn’t protected from the elements; this had to be a terribly frigid job in winter and sweltering in summer. Maybe she should have given him a bigger tip.

She stepped away from the stop, looking around for her Uncle Frank. It had been over ten years since she’d seen him last. On the other side of the road, there stood a familiar man; he’d hardly changed at all from her memory of him.

“Holly!” he called, hurrying across the road as soon as the coach had moved on. “It’s good to see you, darlin’.” He punctuated his greeting by sweeping Holly up into a hug.

“Hi, Uncle Frank,” Holly said quietly, trying to not squirm too much in the hug. It wasn’t that hugging bothered her much … she just wasn’t really in the mood for a lot of physical contact.

Luckily, the hug didn’t last long. Frank mush have keyed into her discomfort. “Sorry, round here, huggin’ is the standard greeting. I didn’t think that you might not be used to that…” he trailed off a little awkwardly.

“It’s alright,” Holly said. She tried to sound cheerful or excited, but her words just sounded flat and doleful.

To his credit, Frank didn’t look at all put off by her attitude. Her parents must have clued him in on her situation. “You must be tired from all your travelin’ today and I bet you’re starvin’.” He took Holly’s suitcase and offered his free arm to her. They started walking up the road, tromping through the drifts. “I’ve got dinner almost ready, your Ma said you love pizza, and if I can brag, I make a pretty mean fish pizza. We’ll get you all warmed up and settled in, and tomorrow, if you’re feelin’ up to it, we can go meet folks around town.”

“Okay.”

They walked on for about a quarter mile up an unplowed, but well-traveled road, and over an icy bridge that crossed a sluggishly burbling stream until they came up to a gate and a humble farmstead. Holly could see a house, with its windows shining warm in the quickly encroaching darkness, along with a shed near the house, and a barn. She could see a large area of uneven, lumpy snow which she assumed was a field, but it was difficult to see if there was actually anything growing there.

“Home sweet home.” Frank said brightly as he kicked the snow off his boots on the porch. Holly could hear a dog scrambling around and barking excitedly behind the closed front door. “C’mon in and meet Lucky.”

Holly stepped into the warm house and was immediately set upon by a very eager brown and white dog. She assumed this was Lucky. He yapped happily, trying to get as much sniffing done as possible. Holly offered her hand for inspection while she slipped out of her boots and jacket.

“Let me give you the grand tour,” Frank said once Lucky was satisfied with his examination. “This here’s the main room.” He gestured around to the cozy space. There was a kitchen in the corner with a dining area and a cluttered workbench near the door. An old couch and comfortable looking arm chair stood near a brick fireplace and a couple jam packed bookshelves. Next to the armchair sat a guitar on its stand. There was a small hallway off the side of the main room, which Frank led her to. “Bathroom’s this first door on your left, my room is the last door on the left, and your room is this one her on the right.” Frank pushed open the door and let Holly step in. He followed and hoisted her suitcase on the bed. “Sorry about the clutter,” he said, nodding to the boxes stacked in the corner. I mainly use this room for storage. But I’ve been meaning to tidy this room up for some time, so this is the perfect opportunity. Does it look alright?”

“Yeah,” Holly said, nodding automatically. The room itself was pretty bare. A double bed on an old fashioned brass bedstead took up most of one wall, there was a dresser and old mirror standing across from it, a bedside table and lamp sat beside the bed, and one window looked out to the front of the house, framed by plain blue curtains. There weren’t any decorations on the walls or anything and the wallpaper was a neutral, but pleasant floral print that was probably all the rage in farmhouse decor fifty years ago. However, aside from the dusty boxes stacked almost to the ceiling, the room looked and smelled like it had been freshly cleaned.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to get settled in and go get dinner started.”

Holly didn’t have much to settle into. She put her clothes in the dresser and set her toiletries up in the bathroom. When that was done, she stowed her suitcase beside the dresser and sat on the bed. The sheets smelled like fresh laundry, and the mattress was nice and soft. She spent several minutes contemplating whether she should even bother going back to eat dinner with Uncle Frank. Exhaustion seeped into her very bones. But she could hear Frank bustling around the kitchen, humming a tune while he worked, and delicious scents were wafting into her room. Holly’s stomach growled. She pulled herself out of the bed. It would be rude to not eat dinner after all Uncle Frank had done to prepare it for her.

The main room was practically glowing with warmth. Frank had lit a fire and the logs crackled cheerily in the hearth. Lucky was basking in the warmth, with his belly facing the flames.

“Good timin’, Holly,” Frank called out. “The pizza’s almost ready. Go ahead and take a seat.” He gestured with the knife he was using to chop up vegetables to the table. Two places were set with plain matching china.

Holly slid into her seat and stared listlessly at the fire until Uncle Frank set down a big bowl of salad, and a steaming hot pizza in the middle of the table.

“Dig in,” Frank offered enthusiastically, sliding a couple slices of pizza onto Holly’s plate. “All the veggies in the salad were grown locally, and I caught the fish for the pizza myself this morning. It’s all about as fresh as you can get.”

Holly was, admittedly, skeptical of the pizza. She’d never heard of anyone putting fish on pizza – aside from oily, salty anchovies – but she liked pizza and she liked fish so… it was worth a shot. She took a tentative bite of the slice and chewed it over. It was incredible! Holly honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d had something so flavorful. The pizza was better than she had expected, and the salad was something else! Even the tomatoes were amazing, and she didn’t really like tomatoes all that much. She found herself wanting to eat seconds and thirds of everything, but her stomach wasn’t used to so much food. By the time she finished her two slices and salad, she was overstuffed and sleepy.

“That was delicious, Uncle Frank.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Frank said with a smile as he cleared away dishes. “Don’t worry about the clean-up. You go onto bed. You’ve had a long day, and traveling can really take it out of you. Oh, and of you don’t want Lucky nosing into your room, make sure you close your door.”

Holly thanked her Uncle and bade him goodnight. It was still early, far earlier than she’d normally go to bed, but she was exhausted. Holly changed, and got ready for bed, noting that the rooms in the house were a bit cooler than she was used after the warmth of the fireplace. She eagerly climbed into bed, curled up under the warm, flannel sheets, and fell asleep before she even had time to really think about anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holly gets a walkthrough of her Uncle's life on the farm and meets a local postman.

**Chapter Two**

 

 

Holly woke to the sensation of something cold and wet pressed against her hand. It dabbed rapidly at her fingers and palms. She frowned into her pillow, stirring reluctantly into wakefulness, trying to connect her brain to her mouth enough to tell Lynn to leave her alone. Then the cold and wet something was replaced by a warm and wet flick against her palm, accompanied by the scratch of claws against a hard floor and a small whine. She cracked her eyes open and focused slowly on the brown and white shape who was fixing her with a rather anxious look, nosing at her hand, and giving her little licks.

“Mmh, Lucky, whyyy?” Holly moaned into her pillow, pulling her hand back under her sheets. Judging by the weak quality of the light filtering past the curtains, it was Way Too Early o’clock. She pulled the sheets up over her head and snuggled down into her warm bed. She was on vacation; no way was she getting out of bed before the sun was fully over the horizon.

Lucky, apparently, didn’t share her sentiments. When Holly showed no sign of stirring, he jumped onto the bed, putting his paws into every soft pressure point Holly possessed.

“Ugh, Lucky!” Holly gasped, sitting bolt upright to remove the dog paws from her chest. “Don’t you understand sleeping in?” she asked with a soft whine, massaging the sore spots. The dog fixed her with a bright, open-mouthed smile now that Holly was showing signs of life. He licked Holly’s cheek before bouncing off the bed and spinning a happy circle in front of her dresser.

Holly fixed him with a dirty look. “You’re not going to let me go back to sleep are you?” She heaved a long sigh. Uncle Frank _did_ warn her about closing her door. She threw her sheets aside, shivering as the chill of her room hit her. Lacking slippers and a bathrobe, Holly shoved her feet into a warm pair of socks and pulled a thick sweater over her pajamas. She shuffled out into the main room with Lucky dancing around her heels, rubbing blearily at her eyes. The scent of coffee greeted her with a gentle caress and she woke up another couple degrees in hope of some caffeinated bliss.

Frank was moving around the kitchen, much quieter than the previous evening. By the surprised raise of his brow, and then the apologetic frown, he clearly wasn’t expecting Holly to be awake so early. “Sorry, did Lucky wake you? He gets anxious when people sleep past sunrise.”

“I can tell,” Holly said dryly. Her eyes scanned the kitchen counters for the pot of coffee that she could smell, but couldn’t see. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Oh, yeah,” Frank stepped aside, revealing the stove, and an old fashioned coffee pot sitting on one of the burners. Aromatic steam was slowly rising from the spout. “I usually have a cup before I start my chores in the morning. Do you want one?”

“Yeah,” Holly said behind a yawn. She nodded her head just in case her answer got lost in the yawn.

Frank chuckled and pulled a second mug out of the cabinet. “Should be just about ready. Do you take milk or sugar?” He was already pulling a bottle of milk from the fridge.

“Mmmh.” Holly said, still trying to get her brain kick-started into full consciousness. Her usual coffee preference typically included a healthy splash of caramel macchiato flavored coffee creamer and a heaping spoonful of sugar. But, she supposed that fancy creamer flavors probably weren’t readily available out here, or at the very least, Uncle Frank didn’t keep them in stock. She’d be fine with plain milk and sugar for the next few weeks.

Frank poured the rich, dark coffee into the two mugs and slid one across the counter to Holly along with the sugar bowl. She prepared her cup and noted that Frank took his coffee with just a small spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk. They both sat at the table and were several sips into their coffee before Frank spoke up.

“Ya know, Holly, if you want you can help me with my chores this mornin’. I can give you the grand tour.”

What Holly really wanted to do was go back to bed and get a couple more hours of sleep, but she didn’t think Lucky would be very accommodating to that plan. “Yeah, sure.” She finished her coffee first and hurried to get changed; trading out her pajamas for some jeans, but keeping the warm sweater on. When she got back to the front room, Frank was pulling on a pair of sturdy, but well-worn boots. Holly followed suit, pulling her own boots on and then her jacket. Frank didn’t seem to be rushed, but she didn’t like the thought of messing up his routine.

“Now the first thing I do,” Frank began explaining as they stepped off the front porch and into a trampled path of snow between the house and the barn, “is take care of the animals. I’ll get them their breakfast and milk the cows – it’s important the cows get milked around the same time each day. Then after that I…”

Holly followed Frank around the barn and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the stink too obviously as he introduced her to each animal. It wasn’t a necessarily unpleasant smell - warm, dusty bodies, dry straw, sweet hay and oats - but it was stronger than she expected, and when it came down to it, shit still smelled like shit.

He had a few cows and sheep; kept mostly for using their byproducts locally, he explained, the terrain around these parts just wasn’t suited for raising large herds, but good quality cheese and wool will fetch a nice price from the local merchants. He doled out a portion of fodder into the feed bins of each animal, which they took to with gusto. While the cows ate, he showed Holly how he milked them with a small machine, and when that was done he brushed each animal with a large. bristly brush. They seemed to enjoy this immensely. When he got to the sheep, he ran his hands through the thick fleece, explaining how they’d be sheared once the weather turned warmer.

Holly liked listening to Uncle Frank explain things. He had that same warm, familiar accent her father had when he wasn’t in what she liked to call ‘business mode.’ It reminded her of home, and where she thought she would feel a wrench of homesickness, she found comfort.

By the time Frank had brushed, given personal attention to, and handed out a couple small treats to each animal, they had licked their feed bins clean. “Now on sunny days, I usually let them out to pasture, even in winter. They like the fresh air and sunshine, and it makes mucking out the barn a little easier.”

The animals had all gathered expectantly near a door on the back side of the barn that Holly hadn’t noticed before. Frank stepped through and opened the latch before pulling the door open on its sliding track. Holly half expected a small stampede as the animals went outside, but they plodded out at a mildly excited pace. The pasture was plenty spacious for all of the animals, and Holly could see patches of grass through the snow that the livestock had either dug up or walked over so often the snow was mostly gone. The visible grass right now was dead and brown, but she was certain it would be lush and green come springtime.

“Now I usually keep this door open for them, so they can come and go as they please, in case the weather suddenly turns, but ya’ gotta be sure to latch the other door tightly. Houdini over there really lives up to her namesake.” Frank pointed to a cow who was currently rubbing her side against a large bristly brush. Holly had never seen a cow in bliss before, but she was certain that Houdini was currently in bovine nirvana.

Frank turned back into the barn, grabbing a pitchfork off a tool rack on the wall and a slightly dented and rather dirty wheelbarrow. Holly didn’t have to think too hard about what exactly that was used for. She kept her distance from the wheelbarrow as her Uncle mucked out the barn floor with quick, efficient scoops, dropping soiled straw into the wheelbarrow. He explained how important it was to keep the barn clean for the animals. It helped them stay healthy and happy. Once the soiled straw had been cleaned up, he sprinkled down a thick layer of fresh straw, and wheeled the barrow out of the front door of the barn. Out around the back, he tipped the contents into a rather large pile.

Holly eyed the pile from a distance, trying her best to not quote Jeff Goldblum. She must have been making a face, because Frank turned around and was chuckling at her.

“It’s not pretty, but toss in some other compost and that’s a near unlimited supply of the best fertilizer you can get. The crops love it.”

“I’m sure they do.” Holly managed with a tight, but polite smile.

Frank wheeled the barrow back into the barn and secured the door behind him. “C’mon let’s get cleaned up and get some breakfast. After that, I’ll show you around the rest of the fields.”

 

Breakfast was a simple affair of cereal, toast, and more coffee. Holly had a small bowl and a single piece of toast, plus another mug of coffee. By this point, she was feeling much more awake and alert, even if it was still too early for her to be awake on vacation. With breakfast cleaned up, she donned her jacket and boots again and followed Frank out the door. This time they walked away from the barn, past the pasture where the animals were happily grazing in the sun, and over to some oddly lumpy patches of snow. Closer, Holly could see raised rows of snow regularly spaced over the area, they came to about knee-height at the peak. She still had no idea what they could possibly be; they were too regular to be a plant of some kind.

Frank stooped over and brushed the snow off the top of the closest dome, revealing plastic tarping underneath stretched over wire arches. Holly could see vaguely green shapes beneath the plastic. So there were plants growing underneath?

“I’ve got some radishes wintering in the ground; it lets them sweeten up,” Frank explained. “They’ll get harvested once the ground thaws. He gestured farther down the plot, where the ground was flat again. “In early winter I had some other crops growing, they do well up until the deep freezes. ‘Fraid there’s not much to see here until the snow melts, but that shouldn’t be too long now. Spring comes early in these parts, and once the spring planting starts, it really doesn’t stop until next winter.” He stood up, brushing snow off his pants and gloves. “Now most of my land is dedicated to wheat and fodder hay.” He made a sweeping gesture out away from the farm to the mostly flat area beyond. It’s how most of us farm folk ‘round these parts make a livin’. The soil’s real good for it.”

Holly hummed thoughtfully. Somehow, in her mind, farming was restricted to growing plump red tomatoes and lush greens in tidy little garden plots while your livestock grazed freely around the barn. Even though, logically, she knew better, it just hadn’t really occurred to her the massive amount of land that had to be worked to turn a profit. Uncle Frank certainly wasn’t feeding an entire country, or even a town for that matter, on his farm alone. It couldn’t be easy, and she had a rapidly growing respect for her Uncle out here. She also began to understand why her father had left the farming life. If you wanted to be wealthy and comfortable every day of your life, farming probably wasn’t the profession to choose.

It was near noon by the time Frank had completed his grand tour. He’d shown Holly his routine of checking his winter vegetables – making sure the cold hadn’t killed any of the plants, the rows were clear of snow so the sunlight could shine through, making sure the soil was moist enough, and more. Holly was exhausted just watching him, and a little numb from the waist down due to the cold. The sun was doing its best to warm the air, but her jeans just weren’t thick enough to keep her legs warm. She didn’t want to complain, but she was immensely happy when Frank declared he was done with his chores for the day.

They tromped back to the house, kicked the mud and snow off their boots. Lucky was waiting on the porch, curled up in an old basket lined with a flannel blanket. Holly narrowed her eyes jealously at the dog napping in a sunny spot. He had robbed her of precious sleep this morning, and now he was snoozing in the sunshine. She would have poked him awake for a little payback if he hadn’t leapt to his feet as soon as she stepped onto the porch. She had stepped into the house and was in the process of untying her snow boots when a voice called out to her Uncle.

“Mornin’, Frank!”

Her uncle called out a greeting as well. Holly heard approaching footsteps in the snow. She paused, wondering if it would be better for her to just step into the house and hide, or if she should be polite. Striking up a conversation was not something she was particularly interested in at the moment. The good manners her parents had drilled into her told her that her interests didn’t matter.

“Mornin’, Wayne. Makin’ your rounds?” Frank asked jovially.

“Sure am, here…” There was a pause, Holly hovered out of sight inside the doorway, her hands in the middle of untying one bootlace. “Looks like more letters from your family.” Holly sighed, setting her foot down as gently as possible. Letters from home meant that Frank would mention her and bring her out to meet this Wayne, the postman she presumed. She’d save him the trouble.

“Ah, good,” Frank said. Holly stepped back outside. Frank was shuffling through a small bundle of letters. The postman was currently occupied with giving Lucky a good scratch behind the ears. Her footsteps on the porch made Frank look up. “Ah, Holly, let me introduce you to Wayne.” He took her hand and pulled her a couple steps closer. “Wayne, this is my niece, Holly, she’s visitin’ for a couple weeks. Holly, meet Wayne, our postman.”

Wayne looked up quickly from his dog scratching, he swept his cowboy hat from his head and held out a hand for Holly. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Miss Holly.”

His accent was as thick and smooth and sweet as honey, and he had a smile to match. Holly couldn’t help but smile back. Wayne looked to be around her age, blonde hair, blue eyes, a charming smile, and he was tall – oh, _so_ tall – and lean. Classically handsome – as her mom would have described him – like a toned down version of the cowboy on the covers of her mother’s dime store romance novels. Holly would put money on him being extremely popular with the ladies.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she said back. They shook hands for a polite amount of time. Holly was glad he hadn’t swept her into a hug. There was a brief moment where it looked like he was about to, but she may have imagined it. Shaking hands was about all she could handle from non-family at the moment.

“We were just about to have lunch, Wayne. Would you like to join us?” Frank offered.

An apologetic smile crossed Wayne’s face. “I wish I could, Frank, but I’ve got a rush delivery to make to Lulukoko and then another one going to Ginjiro’s. I’m afraid I don’t have the time today.”

“Ah well, if you need a pick me up this afternoon, just stop by, we’ll get you taken care of.”

Wayne smiled brightly. “It’s a mighty generous offer, but I’m eatin’ on the run today.” He patted his bulging mail bag. “I best get going. Always a pleasure, Frank, and Miss Holly, it was wonderful to meet you. I hope I’ll see you ‘round town before you head home.” He donned his hat again, nodding to them both, before turning and taking off from the farm with long, loping strides.

Frank sighed, but smiled. “It’s a good thing Wayne’s so young. The way he runs between the towns is enough to make me tired just thinkin’ about it. I keep tellin’ him to hire another hand to help with deliveries.”

Holly watched the postman clear the farm, a little warmth lingering on her face. Wayne certainly was polite and charming, and she wouldn’t really mind seeing him again during her visit. That smile of his could probably brighten up rain clouds if he tried hard enough. His easy smile reminded her a lot of Bruce, and she realized with a pang of grief, that the two of them probably would have gotten along swimmingly.

 

Lunch was quiet. Holly was thinking about Bruce, and it was all she could do to not start crying into her soup. She managed to push away the urge to cry, but grief settled over her like a cold, wet blanket and sapped her energy away. When lunch was eaten and dishes were cleaned up, Uncle Frank said that he had an errand to run up in town and invited Holly to join him. She declined, saying she’d rather have a nap. Her early morning was catching up with her. Frank seemed to understand, promised he’d be back in an hour or so, and left Holly to her nap. Once he was gone, taking Lucky with him for the walk, Holly climbed into bed and let her exhaustion take her.

Holly liked sleeping. Things didn’t hurt as much when she slept.

When Holly woke again, the light in her room had taken on a dusky hue. She’d been asleep for much longer than she intended and it was already after four. Feeling groggy and heavy hearted, Holly pulled herself out of bed and tried to fix her mussed hair in the mirror. It took her a moment to realize she was hearing music, muted through her closed door, but a cheery guitar tune.

She followed the sound out to the sitting room and found Frank sitting before the fireplace with a guitar in his hand, strumming away happily. Holly was hardly an expert in music, but Uncle Frank had talent. When she’d been in school, she’d run into a lot of guys who could “play guitar” but really that meant they knew a few chords. Frank was really playing. She had no idea he was so talented.

He paused playing when he saw Holly enter the room. “Evenin’ Holly, did you have a good nap?”

“Longer than I expected,” Holly admitted with a sheepish grin, “but it was nice.” She sat down in the other chair. “I didn’t know you played guitar.”

“Oh, it’s just a little hobby of mine.”

“You sounded really good. I’m surprised Dad never told me you played.”

Frank laughed. “Ah well, your father was always a bit jealous. I got all the musical talent and he well… didn’t.”

“You can say that again,” Holly snickered. “I’ve seen rocks who were less tone deaf than him.” Her father was a great lover of music, but the poor man could not carry a tune to save his life. The less she thought about his attempts to sing, the better.

“What about you, Holly? You play anything or sing?”

“No, not really,” Holly shook her head with a shrug. “I toe the line between mediocre and the low end of decent when I sing. Nothing special. I won’t make children cry, but I’ll never be on the radio.”

“Would you like to help me out?” Frank asked. “I’ve been trying to work out a harmony, and sometimes it helps to have a second voice keep things straight.”

“Sure, I can try.” Holly sat down on the chair opposite of Frank. He handed over a notebook with pages that were filled with lyrics, chords, and other notes. He ran her through the melody a couple times until she had it down and then they moved onto working out the harmony. It was a playful, jaunty tune telling the story of a young man and a river goddess. Holly was familiar with the story; it was a common fairytale told to children to remind them to be mindful of how they treated the environment. It had always been one of her favorites.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We take a tour around Westown and meet some more townsfolk!
> 
> As per usual, I did take some creative liberties with the town buildings, making them a little bigger and adding some buildings to accommodate all of the poor spriteless NPCs.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Becks

**Chapter 3**

 

Holly fell into a comfortable sort of routine over the next few days with her Uncle. She’d learned to keep her door shut overnight, so Lucky let her sleep past sunrise. In fact, most days she found herself sleeping until almost noon – much later than normal, or at least, normal before Bruce’s accident, but Uncle Frank didn’t seem to mind too much.

He did his chores around the farm and house in preparation for the rapidly approaching Spring. Holly helped, sometimes with the easy chores, other times she just stayed inside reading some of the books that were crammed onto his shelves.

Holly did end up meeting Frank’s neighbors – though she didn’t think she could really consider their houses close enough to be considered ‘neighbors.’ Was someone still your neighbor if you couldn’t see their house from your front porch? Megan and her grandson Colin stopped by one afternoon on their way into town. Frank was taking advantage of a sunny day to air out some winter linens before they went back into storage; Holly was helping, for lack of anything better to do. Megan and Colin were heading to the market to sell the large bag full of handspun yarn Megan had thrown over her shoulder, but she couldn’t resist stopping by to meet Frank’s niece.

The town elder was friendly enough and Colin was a sweet boy, if shy and quiet. Lucky certainly seemed to like the boy as he enjoyed a good round of ear scratches while the adults talked. Megan made polite inquiries about what Holly did for work and such and told Holly a little bit of town history. It was pleasant conversation, but short. Megan _did_ have errands to run after all.

Once Megan and Colin went back on their way to town, and the linens were hung up on the line, Holly went back inside to the books. They were mostly farm-related texts about animal husbandry or optimizing crop yield or planting guides. Most were old, far older than her or even Uncle Frank.

Frank warned her to be careful with the really old books. They had belonged to his grandfather and while the essential of farming hadn’t changed much in the last few hundred years, some of the information was outdated and no good anymore. Holly didn’t particularly care how old and dated the books were. They served their purpose to be a distraction while she passed her requisite time with her Uncle.

She still wasn’t sure what her parents had thought was going to happen when they sent her out here. Maybe they thought a vacation in a new town would reignite her determination and spark. Hilly didn’t particularly think her spark _needed_ reigniting. Her husband had been killed. Why was it so hard for them to let her mourn in her own way?

She received a set of letters from her family on her fourth day; the postmark dated it to the day she had left. There were three letters: a short, but encouraging note from her father, a rambling, tangential missive from her sister, and a long, heartfelt letter of comfort from her mother. Holly replied more out of obligation than to have anything to report. Frank had bundled them up with his own letters to send out the next day. He never said anything, but Holly knew that he was sending back reports to her parents. They’d sent him more letters over the last few days than she had received.

She couldn’t be mad at them for checking in on her and asking Frank to keep tabs on her. It was no secret to him why she’d come for an impromptu visit. Holly was just thankful that Frank wasn’t trying to force her to be cheerful, or make an effort to go out and see the town or meet new people. Honestly, he seemed to be quite content to just let Holly do her own thing most days. And, perhaps even better, he didn’t try and pry into anything personal. He knew she was hurting, and he also respected that she didn’t want to be smothered or forced into social interactions.

At least, that’s how it went for the first five days.

"We've got a real good doctor in town," Frank breached somewhat awkwardly while Holly picked at her lunch. "I was thinkin' maybe this afternoon we could walk into town and meet folks, and get you in to see him."

Holly shrugged. She didn't see why some country doctor had to know all her business when she'd only be around for a few weeks. On the other hand, home tests weren't always accurate and it might be a good idea to get a real medical confirmation of the pregnancy. "Okay."

Frank nodded. "You'll probably like the folks in town. There's several kids right around your age. They'll make for good company while you're visitin’. And if the weather holds out, you might get to go visit some of the other towns in the area."

"Sounds nice," Holly said automatically. She knew Uncle Frank was just trying to fill the empty silence; she didn’t mind. His words were something to focus on rather than her grief.

"Yeah, the mountain range in these parts causes some real interesting climates. Westown's pretty dry, but the next town over, Tsuyukusa is real lush and green. And then the other town, Lulukoko, is almost tropical year-round."

Holly let Frank talk, nodding when appropriate, and picking at her food. Eventually, Frank must have realized that Holly wasn't going to clear her plate, because he looked at the clock and unsubtly suggested that they start heading into town. "You go and get ready to head out, I'll clean up," he offered with a smile.

Holly hoped she hadn't offended him by not eating; she just didn't have much of an appetite. She went back to her room to change into a more outdoor appropriate pair of jeans, and checked herself in the mirror. She fixed her ponytail and stepped into the main room for her coat and boots.

 

It wasn't a very far walk to get to town. The sun was shining, and even though it was well below freezing, it didn't feel as cold. Frank narrated the half mile trek with tidbits about town history or where certain wildflowers bloomed in spring. More buildings cropped up the closer to town they got, but Westown was still small enough that Holly hadn't realized they were in the main square until Frank stopped to point things out.

The town seemed to be built to climb up the side of the mountain. There were houses and shops on the ground level, but several sets of staircases went up to a second and third tier of buildings on the mountainside. The main square seemed dedicated to open stalls of shops. Off to the east side, a buffalo statue stood on a pedestal, beneath it a man in a bright orange jacket conversed with a woman. Off to the left of the square, an elderly man in an old fashioned jacked and straw boater hat seemed to be entertaining a group of children by telling a story accompanied by hand-drawn pictures.

It was a nice enough place, Holly supposed.

"There's the clinic." Frank pointed to a white building on the second level and led the way. It had a prominent sign on the façade dubbing it the _White Capsule_.

The square was plenty busy at this time of day and a number of people offered greetings to Frank as they passed. Frank returned the greetings, but to Holly’s relief, didn’t stop to chat or introduce her. They made their way through the small crowd and to the base of a flight of stairs.

A zig-zagging flight of stairs led directly to the clinic, and Holly was dismayed to find herself struggling to keep her breath even as they climbed. Maybe her mother's concerns about her health had been well placed. A short hike and some stairs should not have taken this much out of her. Back in the city she had walked nearly everywhere.

They stepped into the clinic with the soft chime of a bell to see an empty waiting area. There was a couch and a coffee table with a floral arrangement in a plain vase, a potted fichus in the corner, and a desk with a heavy text on it and an appointment calendar. One coat hung on the coat rack by the door, but there was nobody else to be seen.

"Doc, must be with a patient," Frank guessed before taking a seat. Holly followed his lead and sat beside him, pulling her gloves off. She stared across the waiting room to the closed door that bore a shiny brass "Private" plate.

They only had to wait a minute or two before the Private door swung open. A rather severe-looking man strode through. The white lab coat and stethoscope around his neck identified him as a doctor, but he was a lot younger than Holly expected him to be. He was at most 35 years old... any doctor Holly had been to before had been in their 50s or older. His light blond hair was cut short and neat and he wore a round pair of glasses. He was tall and lean as well, maybe only an inch or two shorter than Wayne. Holly briefly wondered if “tall and lean” was just the way Westown’s boys grew.

"Good afternoon, Frank," the doctor said very crisply.

"Afternoon, Ford. Busy day? Or would you have time for a walk-in?"

Ford's eyes flicked over the two, obviously deeming them to be non-emergencies. "I have an opening in my schedule coming up."

"Great! Actually, it's my niece, Holly here, who's the patient."

"I see," Ford said. He moved to the desk and pulled a clipboard and pen out of a drawer. He walked back to Holly and handed them over. "Please fill out the paperwork. I won't be much longer with my current patient."

"Okay."

Ford said nothing else and disappeared through the Private door again.

The paperwork was the standard forms: personal information and medical history, plus a small questionnaire about the reason for her visit. Holly dutifully filled out the forms. Frank did his best to not be nosy and look over her shoulder. It took her a few lines before she realized she had accidentally checked the “Married” box on the Personal Information form. Holly’s hands shook as she went back, scratched out the mark, and checked the “Separated/Widowed” box instead.

She had just finished the forms when the Private door opened again. A middle aged woman stepped through, followed by Doctor Ford. She coughed and wheezed, but still managed to ask for clarification about the antibiotics she was supposed to take. The doctor repeated the regiment; the woman nodded, and thanked him before stepping over to the coat rack.

Ford turned to Holly. “I will be just a moment while I prepare the exam room.” He disappeared through the door again.

Frank apparently knew the middle aged woman. She introduced herself as Sarah to Holly, but kept her distance, explaining that she had come down with a bought of pneumonia. Sarah bundled herself up in her scarf and coat, securely tucked the white bag of her medicine into her pocket, and waved goodbye to Frank and Holly. Silence fell on the waiting room again. Holly fidgeted with her pen. Frank tapped out a rhythm with his foot. They only had to wait a couple minutes before Ford returned.

This time, he gestured for Holly to enter the Private door. She handed over her clipboard of forms as she passed.

“The exam room is the first door. Please take a seat and wait. I will be along in a moment.”

Holly stepped into the exam room, expecting to find the normal doctor’s office fare: a plastic covered half table for the patient to perch on, a backless stool for the doctor, a sink and cupboards of supplies, and informative posters plastered on every surface. The sink and cupboards were there, but nothing else that felt so key to a doctor’s office. There was a simple cot tucked into the corner, a small, sturdy table, and two wooden chairs facing each other.

Unsure of where to sit, Holly opted for a chair and prepared for a long wait. That was part of going to the doctor’s. You waited to get into a room, and then you waited in the room for the nurse to bring you a gown to change into, then you waited for the nurse to come back and take your vitals, and then you waited some more for the doctor, then you waited for a diagnosis, and then you waited for the okay to leave and get your medicine.

With a lack of anything else to look at on the walls, Holly studied the generically pleasant painting of a meadow of wildflowers by the bed. She nearly jumped when there were two quick raps on the door before it opened and the doctor stepped in. She’d only been waiting for a couple minutes, and she hadn’t had a nurse visit.

“Good afternoon, Holly. I am Doctor Ford.”

“Hello.”

The doctor stepped over to the sink and took some time to meticulously scrub his hands. “I looked over your paperwork,” he said while he washed. “You believe you might be pregnant?”

Holly nodded, but then realized that Ford’s back was turned to her. “Yeah, I took a home test.”

“And you did not go see your primary care physician to confirm it?” Ford shut off the water and dried his hands on a cloth towel before dropping it into a lidded bin and donning a pair of latex gloves.

“I only took the test a week ago and then I was coming out here,” Holly explained with a small shrug. “There wasn’t time to set an appointment.”

Ford hummed neutrally and nodded. He looked back down at her chart. “You are widowed?”

“Yes.” Holly twisted her wedding ring around her finger.

“Recently?”

The word stuck in Holly’s throat.

She nodded, and this time Ford saw her. A frown pulled at his face. “You have my deepest condolences.”

He sounded so sincere when he said it, Holly almost believed he did feel sorry and it wasn’t just a socially expected response. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Do you believe you’ve been physically affected by your grief?” Ford asked.

Holly shrugged again. “I dunno … I guess maybe I’m not eating much. I’m not very hungry and I’m always tired.”

Ford nodded and marked something in his notes. “I am not a psychiatrist, Holly, but I have had some training in such things. If you would like, I can further assess your mental health as well as your physical heath. It may help your process your grief or determine whether you should seek further assistance when you return home.”

Holly nodded, but said, “I’d rather just get whatever test there is to see if I’m pregnant or not. I’m only going to be here for a few weeks.”

“Very well,” Ford said. He straightened in his chair and readied his pen. “I can run a blood test; it will take approximately a day for the results to culture. Now, to begin with your examination. When was the first day of your latest menstrual cycle?”

 

An hour later, Holly was led back to the waiting room by Dr. Ford. Her blood had been drawn, and he had done a routine physical as well. Unsurprisingly, Ford had diagnosed that she was underfed and dehydrated. She needed to increase her intake of water, and the amount of nutritious food she ate. Holly said she would try.

Ford had told her to act like she really was pregnant until they got the final test results. That meant, healthy food, plenty of water, and no drinking, smoking, or heavy lifting. Holly didn’t smoke, nor did she have the energy to do any heavy lifting, and she hadn’t had anything to drink since Bruce died. So she figured she would be okay for the next day.

The waiting room was empty and Frank’s coat was missing from the rack.

“Your uncle said he was going to wait at Miranda’s,” Ford said, penciling Holly into his appointment book for the next afternoon.

“Where is that?” Holly asked as she slipped her coat on.

“The general store behind the clinic, just up the flight of stairs.” Ford closed the appointment book with a soft snap. “It’s hard to miss.”

“Okay.”

“I will see you tomorrow afternoon, Holly.” Then, without waiting for a response, Ford disappeared behind the private door again.

“Thanks,” Holly said to the empty room. The doctor’s brusqueness didn’t bother her much. He probably had other patients coming and needed to prepare the exam room again. She buttoned up her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets and stepped out of the clinic. She looked around for the general store, and saw that Ford was right. It _was_ hard to miss. The building was on the third tier of town and had one of those old fashioned facades, plus a really big sign. Holly hiked up the stairs and stepped into the store.

Just as he said, Uncle Frank was there, leaning against the counter and chatting amicably with a plump woman with red hair who looked to be in her mid-30s. Their conversation stopped when Holly stepped in.

“Ah, Holly, c’mon over here; let me introduce you to Miranda.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you, hon,” Miranda said warmly, shaking Holly’s hand enthusiastically. “Your uncle here’s been telling me all about you. Are you feelin’ any better? Frank said you’d been feelin’ a bit under the weather since coming out. Travelin’ can really take it out of you, can’t it? Especially in winter.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Holly stammered. Miranda sure was a talker. She reminded Holly a lot of one of her old work friends – a woman in her 50s who seemed to have a personal goal to befriend every customer she worked with. Holly considered herself a pretty friendly and social person, but people like Jolene and Miranda left her in the dust. “Thank you for asking.”

“That’s great,” Miranda beamed. “Hopefully it’s just a travel bug and passes in another day or two.”

“Um, yeah, I guess I’ll see tomorrow.”

“If you need anything while you’re here in town, just come ask me. We may be a bit removed, but I can get my hands on most anything if the need arises.”

Holly briefly considered inquiring about her favorite coffee creamer, but decided it really wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Miranda, here supplies most of the seed I use on the farm,” Frank explained, “Plus groceries and other essentials.”

“I also offer some tailoring service. Ya’ know, if you want a souvenir outfit to take home with you.” Miranda added with a wink and a laugh.

Holly smiled and took a look around the store. There was honestly a wider selection of goods available than she expected to find in a small town general store. There was a small grocery section with a couple coolers for refrigerated products, shelves of dry goods, and a scantly stocked produce display – she presumed it would be better stocked once the plants started growing again. Another corner of the store held a few racks of clothing, coats and hats for winter. Holly saw what looked to be a section dedicated to farm supplies and basic hardware needs. She was impressed with the little store.

“I’ll have to come and take a proper look around one day,” Holly said with a small smile.

Miranda opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by a dull crash and shrill laughter. All eyes turned up to the ceiling, and Miranda sighed softly, “Sounds like Noel and Colin are havin’ fun. I better go make sure they haven’t hurt themselves.”

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Frank chuckled.

“Well thanks for the chat, Frank. Come on back any time, Holly, it was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Holly said.

There was another louder crash and more laughter. A slightly perturbed look crossed Miranda’s face as she looked at the ceiling. “What are those two up to?” Miranda muttered.

“Bye, Miranda.”Frank called as he and Holly headed for the door.

“Have a good one!” Miranda called after them.

Back outside in the bracing cold, Frank turned to Holly and said, “So, you ready to head for home, or would you like to get the grand tour of the town?”

Holly was feeling in better spirits, and a walk around town on this nice afternoon sounded nice. “A tour would be nice.”

“Excellent!” Frank offered his arm cordially and Holly took it with a giggle.

They strolled down the wooden sidewalk that crossed in front of the shops of the top tier of town. Frank told Holly about every building they passed. He seemed to know almost everybody in town and where they lived – Holly had to assume it was because he’d lived in the same small town for his entire life. He’d probably grown up with the same families in the same houses generation after generation.

“Now, Lisette owns Thousand Bouquets. She’d about your age, real sweet girl if a bit shy, but she’s a hard worker. She’s only been in town a couple years, but she’s doin’ well with her shop and all by herself.” Frank explained as they walked past a fragrantly floral storefront.

Holly peeked through the window and past the bouquets that had been displayed there. There were a few customers in the store and she couldn’t get a very good look at the storekeeper behind the counter. Holly filed away the florists’ shop for later. Maybe she’d take some seeds home and try her hand at growing something in a window box again.

They walked on, past a few more houses, and to the largest building on the level. It bore a beautifully painted sign dubbing it the _Garden Grill_.

“What passes for a nightlife around here,” Frank laughed. “Marco’s been runnin’ the _Grill_ since before I was born, and his grandson came and took over the business a few years back. On weekends us musical folk will go and put on a little performance. Get a good sized crowd in good spirits and it can be a real hoot.”

Holly couldn’t help but grin and chuckle. “Sounds like fun.”

The restaurant was the last building of the third tier, so they headed down a flight of stairs and into the second tier. There weren’t nearly as many buildings. A railroad track ran right through the area, dead ending at a tiny station that looked like it hadn’t seen a train in decades. Holly looked to her left and could see the clinic at the end of the tracks. It seemed the townsfolk had taken to using the tracks as a bridge shortcut between halves of the town as several people cut across with their arms full of their shopping parcels.

“Over there’s the post office,” Frank pointed to the building on the right. It had a wide porch and a big sign declaring its designation. “Wayne lives in the little apartment above the post office. If you can manage to catch him between deliveries, he’s usually hanging around here.” Holly frowned slightly, wondering why her Uncle would think that she would be looking for the postman in his off hours, but before she could jump to any conclusions, Frank continued. “Wayne spends all day runnin’ around all three towns. He’s something of an expert, so if you have any questions he probably has an answer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They moved on down the next set of stairs. Frank gave her a quick tour of the open air stalls, but didn’t get too close. A lot of people had taken advantage of the sunny afternoon and had come out to do some afternoon shopping. He gave each stall a passing description: grocer, hardware, general goods, animal supplies, fabrics, tool repair, the list went on and on, it was a busy little market. The man in the straw boater hat was telling a different story to a new group of children. A couple of young men were talking to the man in the orange jacket – looking for part-time work, Frank explained.

The last thing Frank pointed out was an ornate gate arching over a stretch of road that wound down the mountain. It stood out in its distinctly Eastern design. “That there is the road down to Tsuyukusa. You can get there either from here or from the crossroads.”

“What’s that town like?”

“Oh, real gorgeous, especially in spring when their cherry blossoms bloom.  The river cuts through their town and it’s real beautiful, but a little humid for my tastes once summer hits.”

They turned their feet towards home as Frank took to explaining what the other towns were like. As he talked, Holly found herself hoping that the weather would cooperate enough for her to visit the other towns before she went home. They sounded like really nice places and she wanted to see them for herself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme of today's chapter is introspection.
> 
> This was supposed to be half of one chapter, and somehow it got a little too big. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up sooner rather than later. I've got a 2 week long business trip coming up and I won't have half of the distractions as I normally would. I'm hoping to get a lot of writing done.
> 
> Anywho, next chapter we get more character introductions!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 4**

 

Holly woke unusually early the next morning with a heavy, nauseating feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach. It took her a moment of staring blearily at the sunlight filtering through her gauzy, blue curtains to remember why she felt such dread. She had her follow up appointment with Dr. Ford that afternoon. She held her breath and laid a hand over her abdomen. This afternoon she would know if she really was pregnant or not. Holly ran her thumb over the skin under her shirt, trying to feel out an answer. There was nothing new.

She wasn’t really sure which answer she wanted to hear today. Did she want a child or not?

She was twenty-one, widowed, no job, no degree, no career, no future. What kind of life was that to bring a child into? But at the same time, she had her family and lived in a world full of hope and promise. A baby would be loved and cherished. They would be Bruce’s child. A living memory of the man Holly loved so much.

Holly wanted children, but not like this.

Since her childhood she’d harbored an idyllic fantasy of her and a loving husband growing old together, two or three kids, a house to grow up in, a dog or two, and her garden filled with flowers and perhaps some fruits and vegetables. An improbable daydream – she knew that she’d probably have to compromise on one or two things. Without Bruce though… she was beginning to think her dreams would never come true.

Holly’s throat felt tight and her eyes burned with tears. She sat up impatiently, rubbing at her stinging eyes, trying to press the tears away. Life rarely went as anybody dreamed; there was no sense in crying over it when she’d barely started on her dreams. She was young, she still had time to reconsider her future whether it had a baby in it or not.

With a sigh, Holly pulled herself out of bed and prepared for the day. It was after 9 – early for Holly, but Frank had been at his chores for hours now. She hopped through the shower and pulled on a warm sweater. Somewhere between combing her hair and picking at a bowl of cereal, Holly realized it was Saturday. A busy day in the retail world – Holly would have been working from dawn to dusk at her old job. Here she had all the time in the world to do as she wished. It wasn’t her first Saturday off her job, but somehow it felt different today.

As she washed her breakfast dishes, Holly looked out the kitchen window. The sky was sleet gray with low hanging clouds threatening snow. A gusty wind pulled sharply at the bare tree limbs and she had a feeling it would be bitter cold. Weather to fit her mood. She spent several minutes staring blankly out at the dark sky. Her mind returned to contradictory and nauseating thoughts of a future. She was broken from her cloud of thoughts when Frank clomped back into the house with Lucky at his side and a gust of chill air at his back. She jumped, realizing she’d been rinsing her bowl for who knows how long. She hurriedly turned off the tap and set her thoroughly rinsed bowl onto the draining board.

“Brrr, it’s gonna be a cold one today,” Frank announced as he untied his bootlaces. He spied Holly standing at the kitchen sink just as he got to his second boot. “You’re up awful early.”

Holly grinned somewhat sheepishly. “I don’t usually sleep in so late. I guess I just needed to catch up on sleep or something.”

Frank chuckled warmly as he hung his coat on the rack beside the door. “Ah, I figured as much. Sometimes a body just needs sleep. So,” he walked over to the kitchen table and sat down to give Lucky a scratch behind the ears, “You’ve got your appointment with Doc Ford today, right? What time?”

Holly had to think for a second to remember the exact appointment time. “Uh, two. I figured I’d head out for town around one.”

Frank nodded, keeping his eyes on Lucky as the dog went to laze beside the fireplace. “Sounds good. D’ya remember the way, or would you like me to show you again?”

Holly smiled weakly. There was only one road into Westown from her Uncle’s farm. It was impossible to get lost, but this was his way of being supportive. “I think I remember the way from yesterday.”

Frank directed a smile at her. “’Course you do. Just make sure you bundle up; there’s a bitter wind blowing. The animals didn’t even want to go outside today.”

Holly turned her gaze out a window and to the gray sky. “Do you think it’ll snow?”

Frank followed her gaze out the front window. “Nah, I don’t think so. We’ll get some flurries, but nothing’ll collect. By this point in the season we’re mostly done with the heavy snows and winter storms. It’ll start thawin’ and warmin’ up in the next couple weeks. Come mid-March I can start my Spring planting and then it’s nonstop until next winter.”

Holly nodded. “What kind of things do you plant in Spring?”

Frank began explaining, but Holly found her thoughts wandering, thinking ahead. In a few weeks she’d be on her way home. Back at her parent’s house. Back to the job hunt. More time in retail hell – the only kind of job that would hire her. But if she was pregnant it would be nearly impossible to find a job.

Maybe she would go back to school in the summer. It hadn’t really done much for her the first time through classes were unfulfilling and she felt she was wasting her time. She dropped out halfway through her degree. She had really only gone in the first place because her father insisted. Needless to say, he had been greatly disappointed when she didn’t enroll for her junior year.

She picked an accounting degree because it seemed like a logical choice. She had always been good with numbers, but she didn’t have the head for the sciences, and she had no desire to be a teacher or a nurse. The home economics degree had been a joke and history bored her to tears. At least business school was useful, if deliriously unexciting. Holly had tried her best, and had gotten decent grades, but she just couldn’t stand sitting in a stuffy classroom all day listening to boring old men drone on and on about the stock exchange. She didn’t want to sit and listen, or spend the rest of her life trapped behind a desk. She wanted to _do_ something, she just didn’t know what.

Holly wasted two years of her life and a ton of money on college. On the bright side, she _had_ learned a lot of useful and practical tips on money and business management. And one big plus of her time in university was that she had met Bruce in one of her freshman year finance classes. It took him over a year to ask her out on a real date, but they had shared a few classes and countless informal study dates between that accounting class and her dropping out.

Sometime around their six month anniversary, Holly realized with an entertained strike of irony that she had been one of those girls who went to college and left with her ‘MRS degree’. But she really didn’t mind. There were worse things she could have done with her time.

Ever since their wedding, Holly had been planning on a future that revolved around Bruce. He had been the one with real, solid dreams and a career path. Bruce took extra classes over the summer semesters so he could graduate early. He even had a couple prospective jobs lined up for when he graduated in May. Holly had been the drifter with her idyllic daydreams. She had been the one willing to move where his career took him, whether that be the city or the suburbs. After all, retail jobs were everywhere, and after they started having kids she probably would have taken up the mantle of a full time homemaker – a position she had kind of been looking forward to.

It had been a nice dream while it lasted.

She shook herself from her thoughts just as Frank finished explaining the kinds of crops he would plant in the upcoming season. She could begin making solid plans for the future once she found out whether she would have a baby to support as well.

“That sounds interesting,” Holly said neutrally, covering that she hadn’t at all been listening to her uncle. She stepped away from the kitchen sink and settled into one of the comfy chairs by the fire. Frank made sure to keep it burning throughout the day to help heat the house, and it had become her favorite place to sit over the past week. Determined to finally shake her persistent worries of what the future may hold, she turned to her uncle and asked, “So if it’s too cold to go outside, what do you do for fun?”

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

Ford took his usual, particular care restocking and arranging supplies in the examination room. It was quarter to two; his appointment would be arriving soon. He didn’t often open his office on Saturdays, but he was always available for emergencies and other special circumstance. He had gotten the feeling from his young patient yesterday that she would not want to wait any longer than necessary to know whether or not she was pregnant. Some things just shouldn’t be held in suspense, particularly for a grieving widow. So he ensured that he did not start any experiments that required constant watch that morning.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done such for a patient, and he was happy do to a favor for Frank’s niece. The farmer kept himself in remarkable health and hardly needed more than a friendly reminder to come in for his annual checkups.

He straightened up a rack of informative pamphlets and tried to predict what kind of emotional response the young woman would need. This wasn’t his first time delivering news such as this, and across the years he had been practicing he’d experienced the gamut of emotions from his patients. A single mother could be devastated to find out she wasn’t expecting. A happily married couple could be overjoyed to receive the same news. The same could be true in the reverse. It was always different from patient to patient.

Some of Ford’s colleagues in medical school had been so attuned to a patient’s emotions they could read the room in an instant and either plaster a smile on their face or a somber, apologetic expression. Ford had never been very adept at that; he had just learned to deliver the diagnosis as professionally as possible and then go from there.

With the examination room sanitized and prepared, Ford stepped into his office, picking up the medical journal he had left there earlier. An old friend and mentor of his had written an article on rural medicine that had finally been published and Ford was eager to read it. Marian had actually been the one to inspire Ford to move from the city out to an underserved, rural area, and it had become one of the best pieces of advice his friend had ever given him. Ford had spent most of the last decade of his life serving Westown and her neighbors and making incredible strides in his research.

He settled in at the front desk and picked up where he’d left off in Marian’s article. Though the other doctor would be loath to admit it, he had a couple more decades of experience in medicine than Ford and he was a wellspring of knowledge. His articles, while infrequent, were always informative. The major medical journals had a bias towards urban medicine – not unexpected considering the shift in the population out of the rural environments and into urban ones. The world was changing. General Practitioners wanted to hear from the neurosurgeons and cardiologists, not their country counterparts.

Privately, Ford believed that this biased turn was a regressive step for the medical community at large. Already he was beginning to see a trend of pushing drug treatments and surgeries over taking steps to ensure a patient’s wellness. Why work with a patient to make sure they were maintaining their blood pressure and eating heathy food when you could just prescribe some pills and send them on their way? Drugs and medications certainly had their place and were incredible, live-saving advances, but they should not be turned into a crutch for the medical community.

Before Ford could get too caught up in his thoughts on the depersonalization of general practice, the clinic door swung open and a heavily bundled person hurried in on a gust of cold air. His two o’clock.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she gasped, unwinding a thick scarf from her face and neck. “The walk took longer than I thought.”

Ford glanced at his watch. It was five past. Hardly late considering the habits of some of his other patients, but he valued punctuality, as did his patient it appeared. “That’s quite alright, it’s only a few minutes past,” he assured Holly as she continued un-bundling from the winter cold. She had dressed plenty warmly enough, he noted with satisfaction. Oftentimes visitors to the region got caught unaware of how bitterly the mountain wind could blow and he had treated more than one out of towner for hypothermia or frostbite. Her cheeks were flush and rosy from where they’d been exposed to the wind, but the rest of her face looked pale. Not a promising sign, but no doubt a result of her recent undernourishment.

Ford marked his place in his journal and stood up. Holly had hung her coat, scarf and hat, on the rack beside the door. “Mrs. Greene if you will step into the examination room we can get started immediately.”

Holly’s hands clenched and she fiddled with her wedding ring, her face paled a little more – a nervous reaction. “Alright.”

Ford held the door open for her and she walked directly to the examination room door. Holly sat in one of the chairs, still twisting her wedding ring. Ford took a moment to collect her file from the countertop and sat in the other chair.

“How have you been since we met yesterday, Mrs. Green?”

“Um, okay I guess. A little anxious… well, a lot anxious.”

Ford took mental note of that. Anxiety was often comorbid with depression. However, in this situation he believed both were temporary in the patient. The healthy grieving process for a lost loved one could go on for over year, and anybody would experience anxiety waiting to know if they were pregnant. However, should Holly visit him again over the remainder of her stay with her uncle, he would keep track of her mental health.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Holly shrugged. “Okay I guess. Stayed up late thinking. Woke up early thinking. But I don’t feel really tired or anything. So I guess I slept fine…” She trailed off, staring pointedly at the file in Ford’s hands. “Are those the results?”

“Yes. Are you ready, Mrs. Green?”

Holly took a bracing breath and nodded.

Ford flipped open the file as a show more than anything. It wasn’t like this was a particularly tricky diagnosis, it was a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ “You are pregnant. Approximately nine weeks.”

Holly froze, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her eyes fixed on her hands folded in her lap.

No reaction. That was new.

Ford watched her carefully to ensure she hadn’t experienced such a shock it would cause her to faint. He didn’t think she would. When they spoke yesterday she seemed familiar enough with the symptoms and had taken her home test. Even if those could be unreliable, she really shouldn’t be _that_ shocked by this. Perhaps it was just taking her a moment to come to terms.

After a long, still minute, he prompted her gently, “Mrs. Green.”

Holly blinked and drew in a shaking breath. “Okay,” she breathed. “I’m definitely pregnant.” Her eyes suddenly grew wide and lost. The panic of a new mother who had no clue what she was doing settled in. Fortunately, Ford was prepared for that.

“I took the liberty of gathering some informative pamphlets for you,” he said, giving her something else to focus on than the whirling mental spiral of panic. He pulled the pamphlets from the back of her file and handed them over. They covered nearly everything from the first trimester to newborn care. “Feel free to take them home and look over them in your spare time.”

“Ah, thanks.” Holly took a second to flip through the pamphlets, pausing at the one for labor and delivery. She cringed. “Oh god, I’m going to have to deal with shoulders.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. Shoulders were not usually a thought most women considered when looking at their inevitable delivery. Long labor, whether or not they wanted to be medicated, and the head were usually more pressing concerns. Perhaps her mother or another relative had been telling tales.

“That is not something you will have to worry about for several months,” he assured her.

“Right,” Holly nodded, straightening up her pamphlets. “So, if I’m at nine weeks, that means the baby will be due in October, right?”

“Your due date is the 8th.”

Holly nodded repeatedly, her head bobbing up and down. “Okay, just a couple weeks before my birthday. Okay. Alright. Okay.”

Ford was relieved to see that Holly was rather accepting of her impending motherhood. She hadn’t started crying, which was a relief. Of all the potential reactions, he was least comfortable dealing with crying. “I know you are only here temporarily, Mrs. Green, but if you have any questions or concerns please feel free to come to me. Of course, you will have to see your usual physician when you return home, but I will prepare a file of your results for you to take to him.”

“Oh, ah, thank you, Doctor. And please, call me Holly. Mrs. Green makes me…” she paused, stumbling over her first choice of words, “it makes me sound old.”

Ford nodded curtly. “Very well, Holly. Now, with this confirmation of the pregnancy, there are some things I must go over with you before you go.”

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

Holly walked back into the farmhouse just as the clock on the mantle struck four. Her walk home didn’t seem to take nearly as long as the walk to the office. She felt like most of it had passed in a haze as she swung between giddy excitement and heartbreaking dread. Uncle Frank was practicing his guitar, but he stopped as she walked in. Even from across the room, Holly could see the curiosity and concern in his eyes. She avoided looking at him until she had her coat and boots off.

He waited until she was walking over to join him by the fire to ask her any questions. “So, uh, how did it go?” he asked gingerly, setting his guitar aside.

“Um… okay.” Holly said weakly. She was honestly still trying to come to terms with her new reality. “I am pregnant, so there’s that.” She dug the pamphlets from her pocket and unfolded them. “I’ve got some reading to do,” she added with a weak chuckle.

“Well, hey, that’s a good thing, right?” Frank offered with a strained smile, unsure whether he should really be smiling or not.

Holly nodded, letting a small smile cross her lips. “I’m going to make it a good thing.”

She was having Bruce’s baby, and even though her husband was no longer with her, she was going to fill their child’s life with love and happiness.

Frank’s smile widened into a genuine grin. “Well, I look forward to meetin’ my little great niece or nephew one day.”

His optimism was catching and Holly found herself smiling a little easier. “I’m sure we’ll make lots of visits out to see Great Uncle Frank.”

Frank’s smile fell comically. “Not sure how I feel about ‘Great Uncle’ it makes me sound ancient.” He and Holly both dissolved into laughter for a moment. “Hey, how about we celebrate tonight?”

“How? I’m officially not allowed to drink anymore.”

“Well, I’m playin’ at the _Garden Grill_ tonight, why don’t we go a little early and get some dinner?”

For the first time in weeks, the prospect of going out to a public restaurant didn’t sound like an unpleasant ordeal. She wasn’t sure how long this wave of optimism would last, but she was going to ride it for as long as she could. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. Would we be able to swing by the post office? I’d like to write a letter to my folks and drop it in the box to go out first thing tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. I figure we’ll head out after five, that’ll give us plenty of time.”

“Great!” Holly hurried to her room to dig up her notebook and pen. Not the fanciest stationary, but she’d never had to write letters on a regular basis, so she had only packed the basics. It would serve her well for the next couple weeks. Maybe when she got home, she’d invest in something a little nicer to keep in touch with Uncle Frank. Her parents wrote to him often, but she’d never sent him a personal letter. She had only ever added her signature to the bottom of family letters and holiday greetings.

She sat cross-legged on her bed and balanced the notebook on her thigh while she penned out a letter to her mother, transcribing most of what Doctor Ford had told her about the baby. She included the pamphlets, thrown across her dresser in her haste to grab her notebook. She also jokingly added that she already was dreading shoulders, all thanks to her mother’s own stories of having her and Lynn. She finished up telling her about how she and Uncle Frank were going out for diner to celebrate.

Holly paused, wondering exactly how her mother would react to this news. With the home test, Marlena had been almost mournful to discover her daughter was pregnant. Now, would she be as excited as Holly felt to learn she really was going to be a grandmother? Would she read this blisteringly positive letter and think that Holly was faking it to ease Marlena’s fears?

Holly hardly expected the next seven months of her live to be easy, and she knew that being excited for a baby wasn’t going to fix her broken heart. Pushing away the grief that seemed all too eager to ruin her good mood, she wrote:

_I miss Bruce every day, and it hurts me more than I can say to know he won’t be here to know his child. But I’m determined to stay positive. I love this baby so much already_

_Miss you, Mom, and I can’t wait to see you again. Only three more weeks!_

_Love you always,_

_Holly_

 

She tore the pages of her letter out of her notebook and folded them into an envelope. She carefully addressed the envelope, sealed it, and attached a stamp. She checked her stock of stamps, what she brought probably wouldn’t last her the remainder of her stay. Holly had a feeling that she’d be getting letters daily from her mother once this one got to her. Marlena would not wait three more weeks to see her eldest daughter in person to start freaking out about the baby. She would have to go to the post office on Monday.

Letter in hand, Holly left her room, closing the door behind her to keep Lucky from nosing through her things. He had already dragged her one pair of nice shoes from her room to try and chew on. He had been caught before he did any damage, fortunately, and both Holly and Frank had had a good laugh once they realized that those were probably the only shoes in the house that hadn’t had animal dung on them at some point. No wonder Lucky wanted them.

The dog was waiting patiently by his food bowl while Frank measured out his dinner. He didn’t whine or beg; he just stared hungrily up at the counter top where his bowl rested. He hardly moved a muscle other than to keep his eyes on his dinner as Frank set the bowl on the floor. It was only after Frank said he could eat that Lucky dove into his bowl with much gusto.

Holly had to admit, he was a well-trained dog, even if he did think her shoes were a tasty snack.

With Lucky taken care of, there was nothing else keeping them from heading out to dinner. “Ya ready?” Frank asked, after he’d washed his hands of dog food residue.

Holly grinned, suddenly remembering how little she’d eaten for breakfast and lunch that day. “I’m starving.” She slipped her letter carefully into her pocket and donned her boots and coat for another journey in the cold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the last chapter, I had to break them up because combined they would have ended up being over 10,000 words. That's a bit much for a single chapter.  
> We're going to get some more character introductions, and along with character introductions, we get lots of headcanons so hold onto your butts! I hope you have as much fun with my creative liberties as I have.  
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 5**

 

The evening air was still as bitterly cold as it had been all afternoon and Holly was glad for her thick scarf and gloves. The clouds were thick and heavy, and as Holly and Frank began their trek into town, a few flurries began to fall. Holly directed a hidden smile skyward as a tiny flake melted on her nose. She loved snow; everything from a heavy blanketing snowfall to wispy little flurries. Snow just made the world feel magical.

“Do you think the weather will keep people home tonight?” She asked. Back in the city people always used snow as an excuse to stay inside. They hated it. Maybe because it was a nuisance to clean up and it slowed traffic to a crawl. Maybe because it turned too quickly to dirty, gray slush for anyone to truly appreciate. Still, Holly loved going out on a winter night just to listen to the whisper of falling snow.

“Nah,” Frank looked up. “A couple of flurries won’t stop folks from going out if they want to.”

They chatted idly as they walked into town proper. By this time, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, and whatever light had filtered through the clouds had disappeared. Old fashioned street lamps lit the square and guided people safely up the stairs. Up on the second tier, a light glowed warmly from the front window of the post office.

“Oh good, it’s still open,” Holly said, picking up the pace to a jog. She didn’t know what time the office closed and she didn’t want to be the one to awkwardly walk in a minute before they locked the doors.

“Now there’s no rush,” Frank said, trying to keep up. “Wayne always keeps the front office open so folks can drop off letters at any time.”

“Oh, even better!”  Holly slowed her pace again, making an effort to keep her breath even. She didn’t want her uncle to see how that short burst of exertion had made her so breathless. They climbed the stairs at a rather sedate pace and Holly stepped into the warmth of the post office.

She’d never been in Westown’s post office, but predictably it was just like any other post office she had been to, if a little homier. There was a long oak counter with a few official postal service flyers taped to the top. A couple hand painted signs showed where a customer could purchase stationary, postage, and packaging supplies. Cubbies honeycombed the wall behind the counter, P.O. boxes for residents. There was a closed door with a small “Staff Only” sign, undoubtedly leading to Wayne’s apartment.

“The outgoin’ box is there by the door.” Frank pointed, and Holly spun around. An oak box hung on the wall, it wasn’t terribly large, but Holly figured that a town this size didn’t have a lot of mail going out daily. Town residents probably sent out the majority of their letter during business hours or Wayne picked it up on his rounds.

Holly pulled her gloves off, having to give her left glove an extra tug when her wedding ring snagged on a loose thread. She shoved them into her pockets and unzipped her jacket to get the letter she had tucked into an inner pocket to keep it from getting folded. She dropped the letter through the slot in the box with excitement fluttering in her heart. She couldn’t wait for her mom to learn that she was going to be a grandmother. The baby might have come around few years earlier than either women had imagined, but it was going to be exciting!

Holly’s stomach growled quietly, reminding her that they were on their way to dinner. Smiling brightly, she turned to Frank and said, “Shall we go to dinner?”

“We shall.” Frank held the door open for Holly as she walked out. The _Grill_ wasn’t too far from the post office, so Holly just zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands into her pockets. The warm lights of the _Garden Grill_ beckoned them enticingly up the stairs with tantalizing whiffs of delicious food.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, welcoming them in from the cold with the promise of delicious food and friendly service. The restaurant fit exactly what she thought the small town restaurant should look like, and Holly decided she liked it immediately. The décor was just on the vintage side of dated, old photos framed on the walls, stuffed fish on plaques, random bits of memorabilia scattered here and there, and an old-fashioned juke box that Holly would have bet had been bought brand new and never moved from the day it was delivered. There was a corner of the restaurant sectioned off as a stage, with a drum set and piano waiting to be played. A long bar dominated the center of the room with a few people scattered amongst the seat. A young man in a chef’s hat worked behind the bar, making friendly conversation with the patrons at the bar. A young woman wove deftly between tables with a tray of food destined for a group of four.

There weren’t many people in the restaurant. Holly wasn’t sure if this was because Westown was small, or if it was still early for dinner. With the waitress tending to her table, the man at the bar offered them a greeting. “Evenin’, Frank, good to see ya!”

“Hey Brad,” Frank waved across the room. He and Holly walked across the room, making a short detour to the stage to drop off Frank’s guitar before they sidled up to the bar. Brad slid a drink to one of his customers and walked over to them.

“You’re in early today,” Brad commented with a smile and then turned to Holly. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I’m Holly, Frank’s niece.” She shook his offered hand. “I’m visiting for a couple weeks.”

“Brad, nice to meet you. I run the _Grill_.” He looked away as another customer sat at the far end of the bar. “Hey, if you’re having dinner, go ahead and take a seat. Carrie’ll get you taken care of.”

They left Brad to tend to his job and sat down at a nearby table. With a rustle of skirts, a dimpled, sunshine smile descended upon them bearing water glasses and menus. “Frank, it’s so good to see you again! Who’s your dinner date?” Carrie asked with a sly, joking wink.

“My niece, Holly, she’d visitin’ for a few weeks.”

“It’s real great to meet you, honey, I’m Carrie. I love your sweater, that’s such a gorgeous color!”

Holly couldn’t help but return Carrie’s broad grin. She looked down automatically at her sweater, it was a forest green cabled sweater, thick, cozy, and one of her favorites. “Thanks,” Holly searched for something on Carrie to return the compliment, and she caught sight of the embroidered hearts on her apron pocket. “I love your apron, did you make it yourself?”

“What these?” Carrie patted her pockets. “Nah, I had Miranda embroider them on. I’m a mess with a needle and thread, best I can do is fix a button,” she admitted with a laugh. “Anywho, what can I get y’all to drink tonight?”

They both asked for waters and Carrie disappeared to fetch them while Frank and Holly looked over the menu. It was rather limited to basic grill fare; burgers and other sandwiches, standard dinner plates, the chef’s special – meatloaf, roasted potatoes and broccoli tonight – and several fresh fish dishes with the disclaimer that availability depended on whether or not the fish cooperated.  There was some quiet deliberation and Frank made some suggestions of his favorites. By the time Carrie returned with their water they had made their decisions. Frank ordered the meatloaf; Holly went for a classic cheeseburger and fries.

Dinner was really nice. The food was delicious, and Holly enjoyed Carrie’s company as she flitted between tables serving patrons. As they ate, the restaurant filled and people lingered at their tables.

“Hmm, decent crowd tonight,” Frank observed.

Holly looked around the room. She wouldn’t consider this ‘crowded,’ only about half of the tables were occupied and two thirds of the bar stools were empty. But, she had to remember this was a restaurant in a tiny town not in the heart of the city. Nobody seemed to be eating at a particularly hurried pace to clear out a table. Maybe they were waiting for the music as well. “What time do you start playing?”

“Miranda usually walks over ‘round seven, after putting Noel to bed. She’s always here. The others are kinda hit an’ miss if they show up. It depends on their schedules.” Frank finished with a shrug.

From the corner of her eye, Holly saw the restaurant door open and two young men, close to Holly’s age, and judging by their distinctly Eastern styled clothing, not from Westown. They appeared to be regulars, because Carrie greeted them by name. They took a table at the far end of the restaurant and had their drinks without even speaking to Carrie.

With her dinner finished and nothing else to do but kill time, Holly took to people watching around the restaurant. Carrie was dancing between the tales, looking like she was having the time of her life. Brad was nowhere to be found, but Holly assumed he had gone back to the kitchen. An older man wearing, of all things, a pancake hat had taken up post behind the bar serving drinks.

Holly asked who he was, and Frank took to quietly pointing out townsfolk for her. The man with the pancake hat was Marco, Brad’s grandfather and the original owner of the _Grill_ until Brad took over a few years back. There were Evan and Jodi, a married couple and a pair of musicians – Jodi played fiddle, Evan the piano. There was a tall, muscular man in a red checked shirt, sitting alone at the end of the bar – Megan’s son Hector, Colin’s father. There was Carl, the furrier, and Wyatt, the town’s sheriff, sitting together at the bar. Holly watched and took note of who was who – she had always been good with names and faces.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the restaurant doors swing open, bringing two familiar faces into the restaurant. Wayne swept his stetson from his head as soon as he stepped inside, running a hand through his blonde locks in attempt to combat his hat hair. Ford merely shook a couple of flurries from his coat before hanging it on the nearby coatrack. They were waved across the room by the two men in Eastern clothing and walked over to join their friends for dinner.

The rest of the hour passed pleasantly with people watching and chats with Frank. Once Jodi and Evan finished their dinner, they joined Frank and Holly at their table to pass the time. Shortly after seven, Miranda walked into the restaurant. It took her a moment to unwrap herself from her thick scarf and coat, but once she did, she made a beeline for their table.

“Oh, Holly, good to see you again. Are you feelin’ any better?”

It took Holly a second to remember what Miranda was talking about. Why did Miranda think she was sick? Then she remembered the little fib she’d told yesterday. “Yeah, a lot better, thanks for asking.” She left it at that. There was no sense in telling Miranda or anyone else that she was pregnant.

“Great!” Miranda turned to her musicians and clapped a hand on Jodi and Evan’s shoulders. “John’s kids are down with the flu; he’s not gonna be able to make it tonight. So, y’all ready to put on a show?”

The musicians all stood up and headed for the stage. Holly realized that Uncle Frank had picked a table that was in the perfect position to watch the stage from and she shifted her chair accordingly to get the best view. As they tuned up, Holly heard someone clear his throat behind her.

“Evenin’, Miss Holly. Mind if we join you?” Holly looked up to see Wayne beaming that charming smile at her. Ford and the other men stood around him. Holly didn’t mind sitting alone, but she wouldn’t mind the company either. Wayne was friendly enough, and how could she say ‘no’ to that polite smile?

“Not at all, pull up a chair.”

Wayne smiled even wider. “Great! I’d hate to see you sitting alone all night.” Holly mentally rolled her eyes. In her experiences, men who spoke and acted like Wayne were laying it on thick to try and get something; however, in the case of the postman she had a feeling this was just genuinely just how he was. “Let me introduce you to the guys,” Wayne said, before sitting. “This here is Ford, the town’s doctor.”

Holly smiled politely at the doctor. “Yeah, we met earlier. How you doing, Ford?”

“I am well, as I hope you are.” Ford said curtly, nodding in her direction.

Wayne moved on with introductions, “This is Hinata,” he gestured to the man with short brown hair, and a playful smile. He had an air of exuberance and boundless energy surrounding him. “And Yuzuki.” A man with long dark hair that he kept pulled back from his face with a jeweled clip. He carried himself with an effortless grace and elegance. They both bowed to Holly in greeting before sitting in their own chairs. Wayne, the last to take his seat, finished introducing, “They’re both from Tsuyukusa, the town up the mountain.”

“It’s real nice to meet you both,” Holly smiled across the table. “What’s your town like?”

In a rush before the band finished setting up, Hinata gave a thirty second explanation of his town. Holly almost felt like she was getting a sales pitch and she had to wonder if Hinata worked in customer service; she knew from personal experience that sometimes it was hard to switch off from that mode when asked certain questions. She didn’t get a chance to ask though because Jodi drew her bow across her violin and silence fell over the restaurant.

The little band launched into their first song, a folksy tune that Holly vaguely recognized. Within the first few bars, Holly realized that the local band held some real talent. She knew Frank was good, but Jodi and Evan weren’t amateurs. She already knew she was going to enjoy the show, but once Miranda started singing she was absolutely blown away. Miranda was _amazing_! Like, could definitely make it big if she didn’t live in such a tiny town amazing! The first song ended to a round of applause and Holly joined in enthusiastically.

“Oh wow!” she exclaimed, feeling a sudden rush of excitement.

“They’re pretty good, ain’t they?” Wayne laughed.

“I didn’t know what to expect, but this was way beyond that!” Holly would have gone on gushing about the talent on stage, but there was no time. The band moved onto the next song.

There was a good mix of music. Mostly folk songs and country tunes, and there were a few classic rock and pop songs given their own Westown twist. All crowd pleasers. Holly wasn’t alone when she started singing along to the songs she knew. Miranda was clearly the main vocalist, but for a few songs, she sang a duet with Uncle Frank; his rich baritone harmonized wonderfully with Miranda’s soprano.

Time flew by and sooner than she wanted it to be, Miranda was announcing that this would be the last song of the night. There was a chorus of disappointed moans from the crowd, but none were serious. They’d had well over an hour of excellent music and entertainment. Uncle Frank started playing, picking out slow, cascading notes of a melody; the beginnings of a lullaby or ballad. Then Miranda started singing, it was a love ballad. Holly vaguely recognized it, she was almost certain it was a John Denver song, one her mother loved.

As the love filled words permeated the restaurant, Holly felt her eyes getting misty, and she looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Her wedding ring glinted on her finger and she ran her thumb over it, letting the edges of the diamond press into her thumb. She swallowed the sorrow that threatened to fill her heart. She wasn’t going to mourn tonight. She was going to make herself be happy and celebrate her love for Bruce, and his love for her, and their baby. It wasn’t going to last forever, but for tonight at least she could pretend convincingly.

The love song ended and the restaurant exploded into applause. Holly glanced across to the bar and Brad and Carrie were standing close, arms intertwined, looking very love-mushy. Another pang of grief lanced through her heart, but she smiled through it. It wasn’t like other people would stop being in love just because she had lost Bruce.

Chatter picked up in the restaurant as the applause died down. People began clearing out of the restaurant as the band packed up their instruments. Not many patrons stayed long after the end of the show. It was a long, cold walk home in the dark. Once enough seats cleared at the bar the group moved over there to include Brad and Carrie as they bustled around, cleaning tables and refilling drinks for the lingering customers.

Hinata offered to buy a round of drinks for the group, and almost immediately Holly could feel Ford’s suspicious look towards her as soon as the word ‘drinks’ had been uttered. She had a lifetime of experience with the ‘medical professional won’t outright say anything, but they’ll judge you silently’ look; she knew what it felt like on her back. Thanking Hinata for his generosity, Holly ordered a grape soda, and the stare disappeared.

As the orders came in, Holly had a brief moment of fear that she was the only one to not order an alcoholic drink, and that would look weird, but she wasn’t. Ford ordered an iced tea, Yuzuki had a soda, Wayne and Hinata both took a beer, and Brad, at Hinata’s insistence, poured two shots of whiskey for him and Carrie. The waitress appeared from nowhere, as if summoned from the far end of the room for her drink without a word being said.

“Cheers!” Hinata called out, and they all clinked their various drinks together.

With nobody else requiring their immediate attention, Brad and Carrie settled in at the bar for a moment of rest. They had collected the little bowls of peanuts and pretzels scattered down the bar, combining the remnants into one bowl for the group to snack on.

“So,” Yuzuki broached, “No Lisette tonight?”

“Oh, the poor dear has been fighting a cold all week.” Carrie explained with a frown. “I took her some soup this afternoon and insisted that she stay home tonight and get a good night’s rest.”

Holly apparently missed something, because there was a sudden increase in tension around the bar, particularly from Ford. Was there a reason for him to be this concerned about someone fighting a cold? It wasn’t like there was anything he could do to cure her of the common cold.

Then Wayne said, with a slightly raised eyebrow, “Nothin’ better than homemade soup when you’re sick. Did you make it, Carrie?”

“Hm? No, Marco caught a big trout yesterday and turned it into a ton of soup. It was delicious, I thought it was exactly the kind of thing Lisette needed.”

Holly did not miss the relieved sigh that breathed through the group. Carrie apparently missed it as she swept some stray crumbs into her hand off the bar.

“Marco’s soup is a miracle in a bowl,” Brad laughed. “Lisette’ll be back to normal in a day or two. Hey, I noticed the Lulukoko crowd didn’t make it tonight. What’s up with that?”

“Oh, they’re setting up for a festival tomorrow,” Yuzuki said.

“Wait, which one?” Wayne asked.

“Their Spirit Festival.”

“Oh yeah, I always forget about that one.”

“That’s because it doesn’t involve beach parties and girls in their bathing suits,” Hinata nudged Wayne roguishly.

Wayne nudged back, but didn’t argue, instead he changed the subject. “What about your girls? Where are they tonight?”

Hinata shrugged and took a long drink. “There was a small kitchen fire at Ginjiro’s, so Komari got stuck with the clean up after that, and you know Kasumi doesn’t go anywhere Komari doesn’t go, so…”

“Were there any injuries?” Ford asked.

Hinata shook his head. “No. Just a dishcloth accidentally fell onto the stove. There’s really just come cosmetic damage to the kitchen.”

“Well at least no one was hurt,” Wayne sighed in relief. “I guess we’ll catch them next month.”

Conversation unfolded among the group of friends as the restaurant emptied of everyone except their group and the musicians. Brad and Carrie popped in and out of conversation as they moved around cleaning up the restaurant. Shortly after nine, Ford left for the evening, citing that it was essential for good health to get an appropriate amount of sleep every night. He was sent off with well wishes and goodnights.

Holly began to feel tired as well, but was thoroughly enjoying her time with the others. She almost didn’t want to leave when Frank came by about half an hour later to collect her for the walk home, but one jaw-cracking yawn convinced her it was time to head towards home for the night. She was waved off by the others with wishes of a good night, and as she bundled up for the cold hike back to Uncle Frank’s house, she felt the warmth of a new friendship sitting in her chest. Growing up as she did, moving every year or two (or sometimes even sooner than that), Holly had to learn how to make friends fast or have no friends at all. Even though they were destined to be short-lived, she cherished every friendship.

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

"Huh," Brad laughed, learning on the bar. His eyes were on the door that had just swung shut behind Frank and Holly. "That's a first."

"What?" Wayne asked distractedly as he fished a couple of pretzels from the bottom of the bowl.

"First time a girl hasn't fallen head over heels after spending five minutes in your company."

Wayne shot Brad a narrow glare as he took another drink. "S'not like I go around seducin' women, Brad."

"No, but the ladies are weak for a man with good manners." Hinata nudged Wayne with a chuckle. "You're like Westown's Prince Charming."

Wayne rolled his eyes, but smirked. "Probably already got a guy back home. Lucky fella, she is a cute one."

The other men at the bar hummed in appreciative agreement.

“Oh, you talkin’ ‘bout Holly?” Carrie asked, literally sweeping across the restaurant with her broom. Her green eyes were bright and excited and she grabbed onto Brad’s arm, giving it a good squeeze. “How adorable is she? Oh, I just want to put her in my pocket and bring her home and…” she trailed off with a mischievous smirk, biting her lip.

“Hey,” Brad admonished jokingly, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. “I’m _right_ here. Be less obvious with your crush, babe.”

For that, Carrie smacked Brad lightly on his chest, but gave him a peck on the cheek. “Never, you love it. But seriously, she is C-U-T-E. I hope she comes around some more before she goes home.”

“Ugh, guys, you’re rotting my teeth, stop,” Yuzuki laughed, covering his eyes to avoid looking at the couple.

Carrie giggled, kissing Brad on the cheek again with an exaggerated smooch. Then she dramatically dropped her cheek into her hand, sighed longingly, and picked a peanut from the bowl. “Too bad she’s only here for a couple weeks.”

“The right kind of man can get a lot done in two weeks,” Yuzuki said in a tone that just bordered on seriousness, but was belied by a little suggestive eyebrow wiggle. “Maybe Wayne just wasn’t her type.”

Wayne scoffed jokingly. “Please, I’m every woman’s type, apparently.”

Hinata sipped his beer, shaking his head pitifully, “Those manners, man, I’m tellin’ ya.” He then turned his attention to Yuzuki. “She was kinda eyeing you a lot, dont’cha think?”

Yuzuki shrugged, brushing off the compliment. “Nah… Most people stare a bit while they try and figure me out.” He took a long drink and then helped himself to the bowl of pretzel bits. He thoughtfully chewed and then mused, “I wonder why her husband didn't accompany her on this trip?"

"Husband? You think she's married?" Hinata asked with a raised brow.

"She was wearing a wedding ring." Yuzuki wiggled his left ring finger at his friend. "Gold band, small diamond. Left hand. What else would it be?"

Hinata shrugged. “Family heirloom?”

"I didn't even pay attention to that,” Brad chuckled. “How do you notice these things?"

Yuzuki laughed. "Part of being a jeweler I guess."

“I don’t think she’s married,” Hinata insisted. “No way, she’s too young. I mean, she’s my age. Who gets married at twenty-one anymore?”

“Wanna put your money where your mouth is?” Wayne asked, leaning across the bar, mischief gleaming in his eyes. Hinata never passed up a wager, and sometimes it was all too easy to get 50G from their friend.

Hinata leaned towards Wayne as well, narrowing his eyes shrewdly. “You’re on. You owe me 50g if it’s just an heirloom.”

“And you owe me 50 if she’s married.” Wayne looked around to the others. “Anyone else wanna get in on this?”

Brad and Yuzuki declined, but Carrie was staring thoughtfully at her own wedding ring. She looked at the betting men with a sly gleam in her eyes. “An additional 50g to the first of us to find out her husband’s name, if she is married, or who the ring belonged to if it’s an heirloom.”

“Deal!” Wayne and Hinata said together.

The three of them shook on the bet. Brad shook his head with a small sigh. “Betting on strangers, what have you three come to?”

Carrie put her hands on her hips defensively. “Hey it’s a small town. We get our entertainment where we can.”

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

Holly was in high spirits for the whole walk home. Even as they stumbled down the snowy road in the dark and her exhaustion crept up on her with every step, she couldn’t stop smiling. She gushed to Uncle Frank about how amazing his music had been, and they mutually gushed over how great of a singer Miranda was.

It had been a good day, a great day actually. Despite her rocky start that morning, Holly had had a wonderful time tonight out at the _Grill_. Frank made an offhand comment about how it was nice to see her hanging out with other kids her age – she rolled her eyes at being called a kid, but let it slide. It _had_ been nice to spend time with the locals.

As they stepped into the farmhouse, doing their best to not disturb a soundly sleeping Lucky in his bed, Holly realized that this was the best she had felt since Bruce’s accident. She knew that one good day wasn’t going to mend her broken heart or make the world all sunshine and rainbows again, but it was a step in the right direction. Holly snagged the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before bed while Frank tended to some end of day chores.

While the water warmed to wash her face, Holly slid off her wedding ring to place it safely on the counter, far away from any ring-eating sink drains.

Or… she tried to take off her ring. Her fingers met bare skin. Holly’s heart stopped.

She turned off the tap and frantically searched the bathroom counter. Maybe she had already taken it off and not thought about it. There was no glint of gold on the white countertop or around the sink. She knew she hadn’t dropped it into the sink; she would have died if it had gone down the drain. Holly dropped to her hands and knees to frantically search the floor. She patted every square inch, and searched every corner and under everything. It wasn’t there!

She threw the bathroom door open, her eyes wide and searching the floor. Could it have possibly slipped off while she was walking around the house? It had become a little loose in recent weeks; it was why she was always playing with it. Had she mindlessly spun her precious ring right off her finger?

Holly retraced her steps to the front door, there was nothing.

“Uncle Frank it’s gone!”

Frank jumped at the cry, dropping the pan he had been washing back into the sink. “What’s gone, Holly?”

“My wedding ring! I-I was wearing it earlier, and now I can’t find it. It fell off!”

Frank hurriedly abandoned his dishes and dried his hands. “Now, don’t worry, we’ll find it. It probably just slipped off when you took your gloves off. C’mon, I’ll help you check the floor. Now, where did you walk to when we got home?”

They spend several minutes with their noses inches from the floor, searching desperately for Holly’s ring between the front door and the bathroom. They checked her bedroom, just in case, the living room, the kitchen, and Lucky’s bed. Lucky tried helping as best as he could by getting in the way of their search.

Holly sat back on her heels, crying out in frustration, “It’s not here! What if it fell off outside? It’s lost forever!”

“Now, that don’t mean it’s gone forever,” Frank reasoned gently, trying to keep his niece from the brink of despair. “We can go looking along the path tomorrow.”

Holly’s eyes grew wide. “But what if it’s not there tomorrow? What if it gets buried in the snow? Or dropped in the mud? What if a crow finds it and carries it off to its nest?”

“Holly, it’s too dark to go searchin’ right now.”

Tears threatened to spill from Holly’s eyes. “What if I just look around the house? I’ll take a flashlight. A-a-and we can check the path tomorrow, and the restaurant, and the post office.”

Frank frowned, he knew the odds of finding a small ring in the snow in the dark was next to none. But he was going to do what he could to help Holly, though he didn’t think she’d rest until she had her ring back. “Alright, let me get some lights. Bundle up and put your gloves on if you’re gonna be diggin’ through the snow, okay.”

“Okay. Thank you, Uncle Frank.” Holly wiped impatiently at her eyes, and got to her feet. She hastily shoved her feet into her boots, not bothering with the laces, and pulled her jacket on. She ignored her hat and left her scarf on the coat rack. Finally she pulled her gloves out of her pocket.

There was a soft _ting_ as something small and metallic bounced off the wooden floorboards. Holly’s heart hammered in her chest and she watched her wedding ring bounce and roll across the floor, directly towards Lucky, who was following every instinct to investigate the shiny, bouncy, noisy thing.

“Lucky, no!”

Holly dove for her ring, scrambling after it on the floor, trying to catch it before it got too close to the inquisitive dog’s mouth. She clapped her hand over it just as Lucky’s nose bumped into her hand, trying to sniff the new thing. After a couple sniffs, he was disinterested with the thing. It was not food.

“Did you find it?” Frank asked, rushing over from the closet with a flashlight in hand.

Holly didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Her chest felt too tight to try speaking, or even breathing. Her hand squeezed around the ring in a tight, secure fist. Her other hand went to her chest, clawing at the ring that hung beneath her shirt. Breath forced its way out of her lungs in the form of a shaking sob. And once she started, she couldn’t stop. Tears rolled down her face, Holly shook all over.

Frank walked over slowly, kneeling beside his niece. “Oh, Holly, i-it’s alright. Don’t cry, now, you found your ring. It’s alright.” He looped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Her hands did not move from the tight fists at her heart, but she leaned into the embrace.

It was several minutes before Holly could speak semi-coherently. “I a-almost l-l-lost him. The ring is all I have.”

Frank didn’t think he was very good at this comfort thing, but he tried his best. “Oh, Holly, that’s not true. You’ve got so much of Bruce still in your life. Your memories, your life together… your child.” He wasn’t really sure Holly was even listening to a thing he said, but he continued, trying to say what would be comforting to him. “I know your wedding ring is important, but it’s not all you have of your husband.”

Holly continued to weep; Frank gave up on words and just held his niece. After a minute more, her crying slowed down to weak sniffles and Holly pulled away. He tried talking to her again. “Hey, do you want a necklace to out your ring onto so you don’t lose it? I think there’s some floatin’ around the house somewhere.”

Holly nodded and muttered. “I got one.” She tugged at the silver chain around her neck. Frank hadn’t seen what she wore on that chain before; it was long and hid under her clothes. For some reason, he never expected it to be a man’s wedding band. It was so obvious in hindsight.

Holly fumbled with the clasp for a moment, before crying in frustration, “I can’t get the stupid thing!”

No wonder, her hands were shaking and she kept a tight hold on her wedding ring in one fist.

“Here, let me get it.” Frank fumbled for a moment with the tiny clasp, but made better progress than Holly. He held out the chain for Holly, and she took it in shaking hands. She threaded the chain through her wedding ring and it fell down to rest next to its partner. Frank closed the necklace around Holly’s neck. She had mostly stopped shaking now, but she looked weak and empty. Her hand held the rings over her heart, clenched in a fist again.

“C’mon, Holly, let’s get you to bed.” Frank practically lifted her off the floor, leading her to her room was like walking a heavy puppet. Holly sat heavily on the bed, her eyes squeezed shut as more tears leaked out.

Being as gentle as possible, Frank pulled off Holly’s boots and managed to get her out of her jacket. Anything else could wait. She laid down, and Frank pulled a blanket over her. Lucky jumped onto the bed, nosing at Holly, eventually curling up at her side.

Holly hardly moved and still didn’t open her eyes, but she released one hand to rest on Lucky.

Frank crept away from the room, his heart heavy. He hated seeing Holly so depressed. It was part of the mourning process, and her heartbreak was still so new to her; he had been forewarned of sudden, dark mood changes. But tonight he had been able to catch a glimpse of the young woman he mostly knew through letters. Vivacious and surrounded by friends, smiling and laughing. He wanted to meet that woman again someday.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holly takes an unexpected walk down memory lane, sets a goal for herself, and accepts an invitation to tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever have those chapters that just write themselves one paragraph at a time?  
> And then, after spending two months picking at the damn thing, you just suddenly have All of the inspiration and then 6000 words practically write themselves?  
> That was this chapter for me. I spent a month and a half just trying to get my brain to engage for the first 500 words (because I already knew exactly what I wanted to happen) and then one night I sit down and the dam breaks and the rest finally came out.  
> Sorry for such a long delay. Writing is such a fickle thing.

**Chapter 6**

Holly woke the next morning with swollen, red eyes, a scratchy throat, and feeling like she hadn’t slept at all. She could hear sleet drumming against her window panes and opted to burrow deeper in her blankets. She pulled them over her head, blocking out the chill, and her hands traveled to her heart where her wedding rings rested.

If she closed her eyes and pulled the blankets tight, she could almost imagine Bruce was still there with her. Lying next to her in bed, his arms secure around her, making highly convincing arguments to stay in bed all day. They’d really only venture out from under the covers for food.

Speaking of food…

Holly’s stomach growled like a vicious dog. Groaning, she peeked her head out from under the covers and peered at the clock on her bedside table. Holly groaned again. It was almost noon. No wonder she was starving. She threw the blankets aside and sat up, rubbing at her sore eyes. It took her a moment to realize she was still wearing her clothes from the day before. She lurched to her feet and stumbled over to her dresser. Leaning heavily on the top, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked like crap.

Her eyes were red and puffy, her face was pale, her hair was a tangled mess, her clothes were wrinkled and lopsided. She hadn’t looked this pathetic since she had been dumped the week before her senior prom. At least… not that she paid attention to. She hadn’t spent much time in front of mirrors in the last month.

Holly ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it behind her ears. Bruce loved to do that. He would always tuck her hand behind her ear before kissing her. It didn't matter where; her lips, her nose, her cheek, he always tucked her hair behind her ears. Holly brushed her fingers against her cheek, remembering the touch of her husband’s lips.

Her stomach growled impatiently again.

Holly sighed softly. “Shower first, Baby,” she muttered, patting her stomach. “Mom’s gotta look more human first.”

While Holly waited for Frank’s old water heater to bring her shower up to temperature, she caught herself studying her reflection in the mirror again. Holly knew that she had lost weight over the last month, but she hadn’t realized just how much. Holly had always been thin, but she had never been _this_ skinny before.  Holly lightly traced her fingers over her ribs, where she could just start to see them showing through. She had spent her childhood joining various sports clubs to make friends faster every time they moved, and while she had never been buff she had always stayed in shape. Now, Holly looked almost sickly in the mirror.

So much change in such little time.

Speaking of change… Holly’s eyes traveled farther south. It was still way too early for Holly to be showing, but (maybe she was just imagining things) she seemed to look a little softer between her hip bones.

Holly’s heart fluttered in excitement as she placed her hand over the spot. A nervous smile pulled at her lips. In about seven months, she was going to be a mother. A hundred worries bloomed in Holly’s mind, but she pushed them aside. There was plenty of time to figure out the future later. Her shower was warm now.

One hot shower and a change of clothes later, Holly felt a little better. Except for the hunger gnawing at her stomach, she felt like she’d returned back to what passed for normal these days. She wandered out into the living room, twisting her damp hair into a couple braids.

Uncle Frank was standing at the stove, stirring a large pot while he hummed a tune.

“Morning, Uncle Frank,” Holly mumbled, trying to figure what was in the pot from across the room. It looked creamy, and she could see a loaf of bread sitting on the cutting board – fresh from the oven judging by the smell in the kitchen.

“It ain’t mornin’ anymore, Holly,” Frank chuckled. He set the spoon aside and turned to face her. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Not great, but…” Holly wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged. “I guess I could be worse.”

Frank flashed a sympathetic, sad smile. “You hungry? Lunch’ll be ready soon.”

Holly recognized the change of conversation when she saw it. She wasn’t sure if Uncle Frank was trying to distract her, or if he just didn’t know what to say. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

They shared a quiet lunch of potato soup and fresh bread, followed by a very sedate afternoon. Frank disappeared out to his work shed to continue with repair work and prep for Spring. It was coming pretty soon, the farmer explained with a cheery lift to his tone. Holly looked dubiously out the windows where the cold sleet still poured, but said nothing.

Left to her own devices, Holly found herself looking over Frank’s bookshelf. She had finished the novel she brought with her and was facing another three weeks of unending boredom if she didn’t find something new to read. Unfortunately, nothing really seemed to be catching her eyes. What novels Frank did have weren’t really in her preferred genres. With a resigned sigh, Holly plucked the most promising looking book off the shelf – a western murder-mystery – and flopped down onto the couch, but she never opened the book.

Lying on the coffee table was a large photo album. It had been wrapped long ago in a blue and white diamond patterned paper that had become slightly discolored with age, and faded in a few places with water spots. Curiosity piqued, Holly pulled the heavy album closer to her and flipped it open.

The first photos were _ancient_ ; black and white, yellowed with age, and of a fuzzy quality that made Holly wonder if these pictures were taken with one of the first cameras invented. The subjects of the portraits were stiffly and sternly posed, looking out with such austerity that Holly sat up a little straighter on instinct. The landscapes were grainy and difficult to discern, but she was certain the mountains in the background were the very same rising above Westown.

As Holly turned through the pages, the photographs became more casual. Subjects could smile once the photography process became fast enough to capture one comfortably. There were posed portraits, and candid shots. Family gatherings, weddings, birthdays, festivals. There were quite a few in-progress snapshots of the farmhouse being built. In one picture, several men rested on a pile of lumber. In another, a few women stood before an outdoor kitchen with cookpots large enough to feed an army. Picture quality became clearer and eventually color was introduced into the pictures. A little girl with red hair wore a crown of daisies to match the one made by an older woman beside her. A newlywed couple stood together on the farmhouse porch – the red hair girl all grown up. Two little boys, with mud on their cheeks, proudly held up two large bullfrogs. One frog was half the size of the youngest boy, who couldn’t have been older than three.

Holly paused at that picture and looked closer. Unless she was mistaken, that was her father and Uncle Frank. A couple more pages in, Holly began to recognize some of the pictures from albums back home. There were pictures of her grandparents, and her father as a teenager. Then there was a wedding picture of her own parents. A little farther along, baby pictures of Holly appeared and a couple pages after that, there was a picture of Holly looking considerably unenthused while she held a wailing, newborn Lynn.

Holly tugged the picture out of its sleeve and looked at the back. Her mother’s neat script dated the picture with a short note to Frank joking about how excited Holly was to be a big sister. A smile tugged at Holly’s lips; after eleven years as the only child, she certainly had not been happy to receive a new baby sister. Photographic evidence showed that as the years progressed, Holly had come to love Lynn as her little sister/fashion guinea pig.

After several more birthdays and family portraits, Holly found a couple of her high school graduation pictures. There was only one more page in the album after that. A family picture of them standing in front of their newest house. Lynn’s ninth birthday. The rest of the sleeves were empty, ready for the last few pictures that would fill up the album.

Holly flipped back to the front of the heavy album, and ran her fingers gently over the earliest portraits. It felt a little strange to hold so much family history in her lap like this. She flipped the cover closed and looked at the diamond-patterned paper. A memory stirred of a matching photo album that used to live on her own family’s bookshelves years ago, but Holly couldn’t remember seeing it any time in recent years. Chances are it had gotten packed up in a moving box three homes back and never unpacked. She would have to dig it up when she got home.

Holly set the album back onto the table and picked up her paperback. She didn’t even open the cover before she heard boots on the porch outside. Frank ducked inside, shaking rain off his jacket at the door, and leaving his muddy boots in the boot tray by the door.

“Miserable weather, huh?” Holly offered as Frank hung his hat up to dry.

“Nah, I don’t mind too much. Just shows that Spring’s on her way.” Frank said, fishing something out of an inner jacket pocket. It was wrapped in a cloth and Holly couldn’t guess much from its shape. “Once this clears up I’ll be able to start preppin’ the land for plantin’ and get the last of the winter vegetables out of the ground.”

“If you say so,” Holly said with a small shrug. While she loved a beautiful winter snow, she _hated_ winter rain; cold and drenching and miserable. She would do anything within her power to avoid having to go out when the weather was like that; preferring to stay inside, curled up under a warm blanket.

Frank wandered over, fidgeting with the cloth wrapped thing in his hands. “I, uh, I got somethin’ for you, Holly.” He held out the package for her.

“For me?” Holly took it and began to unwrap the cloth. It was about the size of a hardback novel, and heavier than she expected something that size to be.

Frank continued, somewhat uncertainly, “Yeah, just somethin’ to cheer you up while you’re here.”

Holly unfolded the cloth and gasped. It was an antique silver picture frame, freshly polished and gleaming, decorated with vines and flowers crawling around the frame. Nestled beneath the glass was a picture of Holly and Bruce on their wedding day. They were standing outside the courthouse in front of a fountain, Holly in her emerald green dress, Bruce in his best suit, arm in arm and beaming for the camera. Happy, together, and in love for all the world to see. Holly had that same picture in a much simpler wooden frame at home – turned down on her bureau. She hadn’t been able to bear to look at it.

Holly’s lip began to quiver and she felt tears gathering in her eyes. She wiped them away impatiently. Frank made a quiet, disappointed noise. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Holly stood up and gave him a hug.

“Thank you, Uncle Frank. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome, Holly.” He patted her back comfortingly. “I figured, since I never sent you a proper wedding gift, this was the least I could do. That frame’s held wedding portraits of our family for generations. It’s only right that you should be in it now.”

Holly sniffed and more tears gathered in her eyes. She squeezed Frank tighter and whispered, “Thank you.” She stepped back and looked at the picture in her hands. She could almost feel Bruce’s arm around her waist and the warm, late-May sunshine on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry I never got to properly meet him, but from what your mom said in her letters, he sounded like a really great guy.”

Holly nodded mutely, wiping at the tears that were still gathering in her eyes. “You know what’s kind of funny, is that we were planning on trying to come down to visit you this summer so you could meet him.” She chuckled weakly. “He always wanted to travel and we would have had a few weeks free after he graduated and before his job started. He’d never really been out to the country before.”

Frank smiled, happy to see the ghost of a smile on Holly’s face. “Yeah? And where else did you want to visit? Surely you weren’t going to spend your whole vacation here?”

Holly shrugged but kept talking. They hadn’t made any solid plans for their first vacation together, but they had thrown around ideas of going to the beach, or spending a few days camping in the mountains. Maybe they would have traveled to other cities, or crossed the country on a road trip together, or crossed the ocean to visit all sorts of exotic destinations. Somewhere between telling Frank about their vacation dreams and what their plans had been for the future, Holly realized that this was the longest she had spoken about her husband in a long time and it didn’t feel like she was ripping her heart out of her chest to do so.

Heartened by this change, Holly talked away the afternoon with her uncle.

 

That night Holly stared into her husband’s beautiful brown eyes again with their wedding picture on her bedside table. She didn't think she or him had ever looked happier than in that moment; captured forever, never to be repeated. She missed so much about him. The big things like the sound of his voice as he said "I love you" before bed, dancing together in their tiny apartment living room to whatever was on the radio, and the single red rose he would bring her on random occasion, just because he could. She missed the small things too, like the way he hummed under his breath when he was concentrating, and doing dishes together and encouraging Stanley to grow bigger in their kitchen window. She missed the brush of his stubble on her cheek with their morning kiss. She missed the way he smelled; his shaving cream and old spice soap, and an underlying trace of vanilla that he never could shake. She missed the way they contrasted and complimented each other. His warm brown eyes and her baby blues; his inky black hair and her golden blonde; his rich brown skin and her pale porcelain. 

Holly felt sick with how much she missed him, but her eyes stayed dry. As her thoughts wandered, she couldn’t help but wonder what he would be saying to her if he were still around. They would have recently discovered they were pregnant; surely Bruce would have a lot to say. His words would be full of love and hope; apprehensive, but optimistic. Holly smiled softly to herself, actually he’d probably be scared shitless, but they would have gotten through everything together.

Holly’s smile fell as her hand settled over her stomach. Bruce wasn’t here, and he never would be. Tears gathered in her eyes again, but they didn’t fall. Holly looked at her husband. What would he say to her if he could see her now? Despairing, listless, useless, wasting away without him. He would hate to see her like this and he would hate even more that he had been the one to cause her to be this way.

Holly reached up to hold onto their wedding rings. Something settled in her heart; tiny, but warm and solid. She couldn’t go on like this. Bruce wouldn’t want her to and it wasn’t fair to their child if she let herself waste away. The resolve solidified even more. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Holly had to do something.

She had to be _better_. For Bruce and for their child.

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

The rain continued for the next several days, bringing in slightly warmer temperatures and washing away all of the snow. From what Holly could see out of Frank’s windows, the world was turning into a soupy, muddy mess, and she had no desire to go out into it. At least not until the sun came out again

Holly began to resent the weather. It was hard to keep her promise to be better when she was stuck inside with nothing but her thoughts for three days. She needed a hobby or something.

Frank offered to teach her the guitar on Monday afternoon when he had finished all of his chores for the day. Holly tried for an hour or so, but her fingers got hopelessly tangled and confused over the frets. It had been a nice idea in theory, but after an hour of solid effort Holly knew she could take guitar prodigy off of her ‘Secret Talents’ list.

She was blowing through the books on Frank’s shelves at record speed, finding a reasonable distraction in fiction. But she knew even that wasn’t going to last if the weather didn’t clear out soon. Boredom and tedium were not Holly’s friends at present.

By Wednesday, Holly had given up on her resolve to do better, and had returned to wallowing in her sorrow in front of the fire. Frank had offered to have her join him over at Megan’s farm, but Holly turned him down. A walk through the cold rain would only depress her further. And honestly, what use could she be helping out the farmers? She’d only get in the way.

Holly flipped listlessly through a war novel while she and Lucky sat before the fire. Her bare foot ran absently up and down the dog’s belly and he had fallen into a deep, blissful sleep some time ago. Holly only made a half-hearted effort to stay engaged in Major-Private-Captain Whoever’s daring escape from behind enemy lines, and it didn’t take much for her attention to focus on anything else, no matter how small. The sound of the rain pelting against the windows, the dance of the flames over the logs, Lucky’s slow, even breathing, the feel of his short fur brushing against the bottom of her foot. It was all entrancing, and Holly found herself forgetting the story as she was reading it.

Her thoughts wandered to her mother’s latest letter. No response yet to Holly’s news of the baby – she didn’t expect there to be one until Saturday at the earliest. This latest letter was just a short missive full of love and encouragement. Holly had been receiving notes of that nature almost daily. Marlena had probably been writing a letter each day ever since Holly left.

Holly was hit by a sudden longing to see her mother in person, and have Marlena wrap her in a tight hug and assure her that everything would be alright. _All hardships pass_ , she would say, _and you will become stronger for it._ But Holly didn’t feel particularly strong. Bruce had brought out the best in her, and she didn’t think she would ever again be the same person she was when they were together. How could this new version of her, without the love of her life, possibly be stronger?

A firm knock at the door snapped Holly out of her dark thoughts. Wiping her eyes dry, she turned to look at the front door curiously. Who would possibly bother to come visit when it was still cold, rainy, and miserable outside? Wayne had already been by with the day’s mail, and Uncle Frank wouldn’t have bothered to knock on his own front door. He was at Megan’s farm, so there was no reason for his neighbor’s to come around looking for him. Lucky had hardly twitched at the knock, just opening one sleepy eye at the noise. Holly, wasn't sure if she could count that as a good sign that he didn't feel threatened, or of it just meant that Lucky was a poor guard dog.

The knock came again, three quick raps, a little louder this time. Holly scrambled to her feet and tossed the forgotten book aside, embarrassed to realize she had left someone standing in the cold and rain. She opened the door to find a woman, close to her age, with a bouquet of flowers and a bright smile.

“Oh, hello! Are you Holly?”

“Uh, yes, that’s me…” Holly trailed off, her eyes on the flowers. Who on earth would send her a bouquet when she had only been in town for a week?

“It's wonderful to meet you,” She held out her hand to shake. “I'm Lisette.”

“The florist, right?” Holly shook her offered hand. Lisette was wearing gloves and they were a little cold and damp. Had she walked all the way down here from town in the rain?

“Yep! I have a delivery for you.” Lisette held out the bouquet. It was full of yellow roses, white daisies, and sprigs of tiny pink flowers all wrapped in a cheery yellow paper with a sky blue ribbon.

Holly took the bouquet, quite confused. “Oh, uh, thank you, but I didn't –“

“It's a gift from Carrie. She sent it along with an invitation.”

“Invitation?”

“Carrie and I get together for tea some afternoons. We would like to invite you along today.”

Holly's heart sank a bit. Carrie had been nice at the restaurant and Lisette seemed equally nice; surely tea with the two would be like a normal girl's gathering – snacks and gossip and such – but Holly just wasn’t in the mood to put on a happy face and sit through an afternoon of that. Even if she did want to do, her dull mood would just bring the whole party down. Nobody wanted a sad sack at tea, particularly people who were basically strangers.

“That's very kind of you to offer,” she started and then paused, trying to formulate an excuse that was polite enough to not hurt any feelings.

Lisette, however, did not let her get another word in edgewise. Her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! We'll meet at my place around three. It's _Thousand Bouquets_ , do you know which shop that is?”

“I-uh, um, yes. I've been shown around town by my Uncle. But-“

“Great!” Lisette beamed another smile, far too cheery for someone who had to walk a mile in the cold rain just to deliver a tea invitation. “I’ll see you at three. Now I've gotta run, more deliveries to make.”

“Right,” Holly said, trying to keep the resignation from her voice. “See you later.”

Lisette picked up a basket sitting by her feet, it was covered in a waterproof cloth, but by the uneven slope of the cloth, Holly guessed it had one other bouquet hiding beneath it. She waved goodbye before popping open an umbrella over her head and stepping off the porch.

Holly waved at her retreating back as she walked through the muddy farm yard. Holly groaned softly as she closed the front door and looked at the flowers in her hands. What was she going to do?

Holly mulled over the problem while she hunted down a vase or something to put the bouquet into. She wasn’t actually sure if she would find a real vase in her uncle’s house – he _was_ a lifelong bachelor after all. Then again, Holly mused as she poked through the kitchen cabinets, this house had apparently been in the family for generations, surely there had to be one vase in the house.  Holly was proven right when she opened a cabinet to find a selection of rarely used china and crystal stemware; tucked in the back corner were a couple vases. Holly fished out the first one she could reach, made from light green glass, and set about putting her bouquet in it.

She took care arranging the flowers in the vase, admiring the arrangement that Lisette had put together. The last bouquet she had received had been from Bruce for her birthday last year – twenty-one red roses for her twenty-first birthday with some sprigs of ivy and baby's breath. As beautiful as the flowers had been, these ones she had in front of her seemed to have a little something more, perhaps some attention to detail that Lisette was able to give her flowers that a rushed worker in a city florist shop didn’t have time for. Or maybe the flowers were just a little fresher, being closer to their source in the country. If Lisette grew her own flowers, she probably had a greenhouse, and Holly would love to see what kind of other flowers she grew there.

Maybe she would ask for a tour when she went up for tea – _if_ she went up for tea, not when. Holly still hadn’t made up her mind on that matter. She set the vase down in the center of the kitchen table, and then slumped into a chair to stare at it.

She could see her reflection in the glass vase, green and slightly distorted with the curve of the vase. She looked pathetic and miserable again. Hardly pleasant company for an afternoon of tea. Holly sighed and reached for her rings. She slid Bruce’s wedding band over her thumb and tried to push away the wave of guilt and shame that came over her.

She had promised him that she would do better and _this_ wasn’t better.

She pressed a kiss to the wedding ring and gathered her resolve, holding onto it tight. Holly pushed herself away from the table and marched to her bedroom. She dug through her clothes to find something a little nicer (and fresher) than the sweatpants and hoodie she had been living in over the last three days.

Tea with new friends would be the perfect first step towards doing better.

 

Despite her earlier convictions, Holly found her resolve waning as she stood in front of Lisette’s shop. She was out of sight of the shop windows, and the sidewalks were deserted due to the rain. Holly felt silly for being so nervous all of a sudden. She had never had trouble meeting new people and making new friends, so why was she so hesitant now?

She sighed softly to herself; it was because of Bruce. If Holly knew girl gossip, she knew the subject of boyfriends would inevitably come up, and her being the new girl in town would be asked all sorts of questions about her love life. She knew she wouldn’t be able to casually discuss her husband and his accident, and the last thing she wanted was a full on break down in front of two strangers. She didn’t want their pity or sympathy. Holly looked down at her muddy boots. Nobody had seen her yet; she could quietly go home and apologize for missing tea. With the rain and the cold and her being unfamiliar with the path to and from town, it was easy enough to conjure an excuse. What did Holly care if she hurt Lisette’s feelings by not showing up for tea?

Holly sighed again. She cared a lot. Even if she was only going to be in town for a few more weeks, there was no reason for her to be unnecessarily rude when both Carrie and Lisette had gone out of their way to be exceedingly kind and welcoming to her. Besides, Holly had already walked all the way from Frank’s house and trudged through the red, muddy mire that had become Westown. Her borrowed umbrella hadn’t kept her quite as dry as she had hoped and she would really like to warm up a bit before hiking back to Frank’s house.

Holly could make it through an hour or so of tea. She just had to be careful to steer the conversation away from any sensitive topics. She took a breath, steeled herself, and stepped into the flower shop.

A bell chimed sweetly over the door as she stepped into the florist’s. The air was warm and heavily perfumed with a hundred different floral scents. It was pleasant, if a little overwhelming. The store was empty, but another coat and umbrella were resting on a rack by the door – Carrie’s she presumed. Holly was just about to wonder if she should call out for Lisette when she heard footsteps on the stairs immediately to her left.

“Oh, Holly, just in time!” Lisette swept down the stairs to greet her. “I just put the kettle on. You can leave your coat and umbrella by the door.” Lisette helped Holly out of her coat and took to hanging it on the rack. “Carrie’s already here, c’mon up.”

Holly moved to follow, but then remembered her boots were caked in mud. She she had scraped them off the best she could outside once she had stepped onto the sidewalk, but she didn’t want to walk around Lisette’s home in them.

“Oh, don’t worry about your shoes,” Lisette said, already heading up the stairs. “I’ve got a boot tray at the top. This time of the year, the mud gets everywhere, so you might as well keep your socks clean and dry as long as you can.”

“Alright.” Holly followed the reddish trail of dried mud left behind by a couple other sets of feet up the stairs. There was a tray with several pairs of shoes and boots lined up neatly in varying stages of muddiness. Holly set her boots beside a pair of rain boots that had been so thoroughly caked in mud they almost made hers look squeaky clean by comparison.

Lisette patiently waited for her to unlace her boots in front of a white painted door, and when Holly was shoe-less, Lisette held open the door for her. “Welcome to my home.”

Her apartment was cozy and tidy. It still bore a significant floral scent like her shop – no doubt due in part to the bundles of flowers and herbs hanging above a neat work bench – but above that was the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked goods. It was all one room, though the furniture had been arranged to provide the illusion of divisions. A little bedroom was set up in one corner, and separated from it by a wardrobe and a bookshelf was a sitting area. A couple armchairs and one sofa sat around a small coffee table and old TV set. The kitchen and dining area seemed to take up the rest of the available space. Carrie sat at a small dining table and stood up to greet Holly as well.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Holly,” the waitress exclaimed, sweeping Holly into a hug before she really had a chance to move.

“Oh, you too, Carrie,” Holly, a little shocked, moved to return the light squeeze of the hug before Carrie pulled away. “Thank you so much for the flowers and the invitation.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. I know you’re visitin’ on a little vacation and I though all of this rain had to be getting you down. And with Lisette over her cold, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to have you over and introduce you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I missed you last weekend,” Lisette said, a little apologetically. “From what I hear, it was a really great show.”

Holly smiled a little easier, falling into that comfortable rhythm of conversation between new acquaintances for a minute until the kettle began whistling. Lisette busied herself putting together the tea tray and when it was ready the three of them moved to the sitting area. The tea was a mildly bitter herbal blend that sweetened beautifully with a touch of honey from one of the local farms. It was served in a matching tea set, decorated with an elegant floral design – originally the set belonged to Lisette’s grandmother. Along with the tea, there was a plate of little cinnamon cookies and some fresh baked scones.

The scones had an interesting scent; not bad, but different and difficult to identify. Holly took one, gave it a discrete sniff and an experimental nibble. Once it was on her tongue, she knew the scent immediately. “Is this lavender?”

“Yeah, lavender and lemon,” Lisette explained.

“It’s delicious.” Holly was pleasantly surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten lavender before… usually I see it used in aromatic things. I know it’s supposed to be good for sleep and stress.”

Lisette nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up as Holly opened up a topic she knew quite a bit about. “You can get the same benefits from eating it or steeping the flowers into a tea. It’s a lot like chamomile; very versatile.”

Holly nodded too, remembering something. “I used to have a lavender and vanilla scented spray that I put on my pillow every night. It took me forever to get used to sleeping without it once it ran out.”

“Vanilla’s good for relaxation, too.” Lisette tapped on her chin while she thought. “Also jasmine, bergamot, and sandalwood.”

Carrie laughed lightly, “Every time I come over here, Lisette, you seem to teach me something new about flowers.”

Lisette smiled at her neighbor. “Well, there’s a lot to learn. Flowers are for more than just looking pretty.” She paused and sipped her tea. “I mean, flowers were our medicines long before we ever had modern medicine.”

That launched a long and pleasant conversation about different flowers and herbs and what their various uses for people. Holly knew of a few herself; like peppermint was invigorating to smell, but it was good to settle an upset stomach when ingested. But she never knew that rosemary was good for focus or that cedar had natural insect repellent properties. It was quite fascinating, and Holly realize only after they had looped back around to lavender that nearly an hour had passed and they’d hardly talked at all about any personal things. Maybe they would just spend the whole afternoon talking about flowers. Holly wouldn’t mind that at all.

There was a natural lull in conversation as Lisette refilled her tea cup, but it didn’t last very long. “So Holly,” Carrie said in a searching tone that immediately made Holly’s stomach drop. “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”

Holly reached for a cookie to give herself a moment to compose a suitably vague answer. “Oh, well, there’s really not much to say. I’m visiting my uncle for a few weeks, and back home I mostly just work.”

“Surely you don’t _just_ work,” Carrie dug with a sly smile.

Holly recognized the dangerous waters she was about to tread into and steered the conversation away with a casual shrug.  “No, I mostly work. Customer service and all, you know? I like taking care of plants and such, but it’s hard to have a garden in the city.” She chuckled lightly to force her mind to stay positive. “One day I’d like to grow flowers as beautiful as yours, Lisette.”

The florist blushed slightly. “You’re too sweet, Holly.”

Finding an avenue to avoid any more probing questions, Holly pressed on, “Carrie, the flowers you sent me were so beautiful. Do you grow them all yourself, Lisette?”

“Yeah, I have some flowerbeds out back for the seasonals, and a greenhouse to keep the most popular flowers in stock year-round.”

“And isn’t she the greatest at arrangin’ them too?” Carrie suggested, grinning. “She helped me put together your bouquet. I went in an asked for the most cheerful flowers and we got such a beautiful thing put together for you.”

Lisette flushed a little more. “Oh, it really wasn’t anything special. It’s a little hobby of mine, and I just picked out the flowers based on their meanings.”

“Meanings?” Holly asked.

“Well sure, every flower has its own meanings.” Lisette sat forward in her seat. “Like everyone knows red roses are for love.”

Holly nodded, she had never really put much thought into such things, but the idea was rather interesting.

“And your bouquet,” Lisette continued. “I chose yellow roses for friendship, heather for good luck, and daisies for innocence and hope.”

“Wow, I had no idea flowers could mean so much. That does sound like a handful of happiness.” Holly hadn’t realized so much thought and care had gone into her bouquet; she had just thought the colors together were nice. Knowing that, it put a little warmth into her heart. Was everyone in this town always so kind and caring?

The clock on the wall chimed the hour, four soft rings. Carrie started, rattling her tea cup on the saucer. “Ah, is that the time already?! I’ve got to go help prep for dinner!” She downed the rest of her tea in a hurry.

Lisette hardly seemed phased by this sudden uproar. The small smirk on her lips showed that this was apparently a regular occurrence.  She set her own cup back on the tray, much slower than Carrie, and stood up with the other woman. “I’ll see you later, Carrie,” she said, sweeping the waitress into a quick hug. “Say ‘hi’ to Brad and Marco for me.”

Holly also stood up with the others. “I should probably be heading back too. Thank you for having me.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Holly.” Lisette swept her into a hug too. “Come by to visit again before you head home. I’ll show you around the greenhouse.”

They continued to chat lightly as Holly and Carrie pulled their boots back on and then their coats. Lisette waved them off from the door of the shop. She and Carrie walked down the sidewalk together, and the waitress hugged her goodbye and thanked her for coming. Holly thanked her again for the flowers and the invitation and then turned on her way home with a small wave.

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

Brad heard his wife return from the kitchen. Sound carried easily in the old building and he could hear her every step up the stairs, around their apartment, and back downstairs to the kitchen. He glanced at the clock, it was a little past four. She was a touch late, but he wasn’t really worried. They rarely had early diners, and when the weather was bad they hardly had any customers at all.

“Hey, sweetie,” Carrie swept into the kitchen, tying her apron around her waist. She pecked Brad on the cheek and peeked at what he was making. Tonight’s special was roasted chicken with a winter vegetable medly.

“Hey, babe,” Brad said, not looking up from the chicken he was quartering. “How was tea with Lisette?”

“Really nice. Frank’s niece came along too. She’s a real sweet girl.”

“Sounds nice. What’s the weather doing?”

“It’s stopped raining.” Carrie looked over the prep bench appraisingly, before going to wash her hands. “I think we’re going to see more than usual tonight. Folks won’t want to be coped up at home.”

“Noted.” Brad glanced over what he had prepped. He’d better chop more veggies if they were going to see more customers tonight. He’d probably have to do more salad prep too, and bulk up the soup. “Hey, do me a favor and cut some more bread for croutons.”

“Sure thing!”

His wife was an absolute disaster in the kitchen, and he adored and loved her for wanting to help and for supporting him and his dreams but … sometimes – okay, most times her help caused more problems than it fixed. Bread slicing was a Carrie-safe task, though. It didn’t require any actual prep; all she did was cube the bread. Brad would toss them in oil and seasonings and bake them.

“What’s the soup tonight?” Carrie asked as she took up her bread knife and went to work on some day-old loaves.

“Tomato basil.”

“Yum, that’ll be popular tonight.” There were several minutes of comfortable silence as the couple worked; both straining to hear the chime of the bell over the restaurant door in case any patron did come in for an early dinner.

Suddenly, Carrie gasped sharply, “Ah shoot!”

Brad nearly cut himself as he prepared to slice into another chicken. “What?” He set his knife aside and spun around to his wife. Had she cut herself? Bread slicing was supposed to be _Carrie-safe_!

Carrie wasn’t cradling a maimed hand to her chest or screaming bloody murder, so her fingers were probably all intact. Instead, his wife had her hands on her hips and she stamped her foot on the floor impatiently. “I spent all afternoon talking with Holly and I didn’t learn a single thing about her! Ugh, I’m never going to win that bet!”

Brad relaxed and turned back to his work. He laughed, shaking his head. “Sounds to me like you’re just looking for another excuse to see her again,” he teased.

Carrie ignored him, hanging her head over the bread. “Aw, Wayne’s going to win that bet, I just know it. He’ll charm the answers right out of her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, we're still in a bit of an angst fest here, but in the future things will be better for Holly. This will not be an all angst, all the time fic, I promise.  
> (I bet you'll never guess what scent candle I had burning while writing most of this chapter lol)  
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We spend this chapter planting some seeds. *wink*  
> It's a bit of filler, but next chapter we get to finally meet the Lulukoko gang so that's exciting!  
> Also, I still have no idea who I'm going to end up pairing Holly up with yet. I love all of the bachelors so much, it's impossible to choose! Let me know if you have any thoughts on this matter yet.  
> Self-Beta'ed as always. Let me know if I made any stupid typos, I wanted to get this chapter posted asap because I didn't realize the last update was in September. (Why is time to weird)
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -Becks

**Chapter 7**

 

True to Uncle Frank’s predictions, the weather turned sunny and Spring-like after the rain moved through. The air still carried a chilly nip to it, particularly at night, but where the sun shone there was a sweet sample of springtime warmth. Holly, bolstered by the favorable weather, found herself more determined to keep her promise to Bruce.

With the sunshine and warmer weather came a flurry of chores around the farm. Holly was desperate for something to do and Frank was happy for the help. There was an endless supply of tools in need of upkeep, seeds in need of organization, equipment in need of repairs. Holly’s experience with almost every tool had been pathetically lacking. She hadn’t lived anywhere long enough for their homes to need anything in the way of repairs, and what did need fixing her father took care of. All she felt like she really knew was how to hang a picture.

Fortunately, she was just as eager to learn as Frank was to teach.

Also fortunate, there was a lot of room for error. It didn’t matter much if a tomato cage looked a little lopsided or a trellis had a couple of crooked nails in the joins. They would do their jobs perfectly fine.

An unexpected benefit of working with Uncle Frank, Holly discovered, was that the days flew past and she fell into bed each night exhausted but content. Bruce was always on her mind, but while she was busy her grief didn’t seem so suffocating. She even found it was easier to talk about him to Frank if the conversation arose and they stayed on lighter topics.

Holly was always mindful t not push herself too hard. For one, her strength and stamina was practically nonexistent after the last couple months of her life. For another, she knew that it was critical to take things easy in the early months of a pregnancy. She had dredged up any little tidbits of information her mother had dropped over the years and thoroughly read over the pamphlets Ford gave her. The rules were pretty easy to follow: no heavy lifting, no particularly strenuous exercises, no horseback riding or alcohol or unpasteurized dairy.

Still, even with sticking to the easier tasks, Holly found her shoulders and arms growing tight and sore after the first couple days of work. She didn’t much mind the pain, taking it as a good sign that she was putting her body back to work. But at the same time, she didn’t mention it to Uncle Frank because she was a bit embarrassed that such easy chores were causing her this much discomfort. Holly privately enjoyed her hot (but not too hot) showers to melt away the aches in her limbs.

The Spring prep work around the farm was fascinating. Holly hadn’t really put much thought into the sheer amount of work that went into getting fields ready for a long growing season. The last of the winter crops needed to be harvested and the fields that had gone unused needed to be cleared and tilled. They spent an entire day just pulling up the protective tarps over the rows of root vegetables that had wintered underground. Those had to be washed and dried completely before getting folded up and stored in the shed

By Saturday the sun had dried up enough of the past week’s rain that the fields weren’t complete mud pits, and Frank showed Holly how to dig up the radishes and identify which ones were good to sell and which ones should be kept for seed and which ones Frank would keep for himself – those were usually the scrawny, scraggly looking ones.

“They might not look very pretty,” Frank admitted after Holly pointed that out, “But they taste just fine. Most folks who buy the produce want it to look right, ya’know?”

Holly had never thought about it that way, but the longer she considered it, the more she realized that any produce she had ever seen in a store was almost picture-perfect; looking like it was ripe to be chosen for an advertisement.

They passed a pleasant morning with the sun warm on their backs harvesting the radishes and occasionally singing along to Frank’s crackling little portable radio. They decided it was time to break for lunch when Wayne came by with the mail.

“I got a real whopper of a letter here for you, Miss Holly.” Wayne dug through his mail bag and pulled out an envelope that was stuffed full to bursting. The seal and corners had been reinforced with tape to keep the poor envelope together. It was Marlena’s response to Holly’s letter last week.

“Oh, jeez,” Holly said breathlessly, taking the heavy letter from Wayne. She knew her mother was going to have a lot to say, but she never imagined it was going to be _this_ much.

“Guess your folks back home are really startin’ to miss you, huh?” Wayne offered with a smile.

“Oh well, you know … parents. You leave home for a month and…” Holly trailed off with a shrug and what she hoped was a casual smile, hefting the letter for emphasis. Wayne had been around almost every day of the last two weeks with a letter from home for her. The sheer volume of this missive had to be piquing some interest in the postman that Holly _really_ didn’t want. She thanked Wayne for the letter and ducked inside to leave it in her room. She would read it later, once the chores for the day were done.

The letter sat on Holly’s mind throughout the remainder of the afternoon. She couldn’t begin to imagine what her mother could have written to fill an envelope to bursting. Naturally Marlena would be imparting some wisdom and support and practical advice – it was her duty not only as her mother, but as a midwife. Surely Marlena hadn’t transcribed _all_ of her medical knowledge into a letter to her daughter that she would see again in a few more weeks.

Frank told Holly a couple times that if she wanted, she could go read the letter and he could complete the harvest without her. Holly refused. Once she started a task, she had to finish it. The letter wasn’t going anywhere and she would have all evening to read it. Besides, it only took a couple more hours of work after lunch to finish up.

“Well, I gotta admit,” Frank said as they stood back and admired the gathered bushels of radishes. “Havin’ you around to help is real nice. I’m getting’ work done in half the time it usually takes. I almost wish I could keep you around full time.”

Holly laughed with her uncle, “That wouldn’t be too terrible, but you’d have to start paying me in more than room and board and food.”

As sweaty and sore and tired and mud stained as she was, Holly felt a small sense of contentment and accomplishment. There was something thrilling about actually seeing the fruits of her labor before her. Even if all she did was pull some radishes from the mud; the work felt more meaningful than anything she had ever done to collect a paycheck.

It felt nice to grow something. When Holly went home, she should put more effort into setting up a window box garden. Her parent’s house didn’t have much of a yard to speak of, but she might be able to grow some vegetables in some planters and pots on the patio. That way, the plants would be easy to move when she was ready to find a place of her own for her and the baby.

“Here, I’ll take the produce to the shipping bin. You go ahead and get cleaned up.” Frank offered. “We’ll do dinner at the _Grill_ again tonight, before the show.”

Show? Holly had a think for a moment before she remembered what Frank was talking about. In her work over the last week she had lost track of the days. Had it really only been a few days since she had seen Lisette and Carrie for tea? A week had flown by, but at the same time, it felt like it had dragged on for twice as long. Her mood had significantly improved from the beginning of the week, and Holly was looking forward to going back into town and seeing everyone.

She showered and took a little extra care when styling her hair, opting to leave it down for the evening, rather than in a ponytail or the braids she had been favoring in recent weeks. She dug through her dwindling supply of clean clothes – she would have to do some laundry in a day or two – and found one of the nicer tops she had brought. It was a v-neck sweater in a deep violet color. It didn’t fully cover the chain of Holly’s necklace, but the chain was long enough that the rings were well hidden. As lifted as her mood was, Holly still wasn’t ready to tell anyone else about Bruce.

With over an hour left before they would head into town, Holly settled onto her bed and pulled her mother’s letter towards her. She slid her finger under the strained seam and the adhesive gave way readily. Two items were stuffed in the envelope.  A single piece of baby-pink notebook paper with a cute kitty mascot making faces in the corners – Holly recognized the print from the pen and notebook set she had bought for Lynn on her last birthday – and a smaller envelope that was overfilled with pages. Apparently Marlena had tried putting her response in a standard sized envelope, but couldn’t get the flap to fold over and hold. So rather than taking the pages out and refolding them to fit in the larger envelope, she had just shoved everything into the larger and called it good.

Holly picked up Lynn’s note first. It was just a short message scrawled across the page in purple ink in her sister’s not-quite-neat handwriting. It read: _Jeez, what did you tell Mom? She has been writing like crazy for four hours! Hope you’re not keeping secrets._ Here Lynn doodled a winking face. _Whatever. It’s been quiet here other than Mom going letter crazy. Miss you Hols. See you in a few weeks! Love, Lynn_

Lynn signed her name with a great flourish at the end and a doodle of a flower; she had dotted every ‘i’ with a little heart and tipped the exclamation points with stars. Holly smiled and set the note aside. Of her family, Lynn was the last to know about the baby. Marlena and Daryl had known since the first test; the baby had been some of the driving force behind them convincing Holly to come out and visit Frank. But they hadn’t told Lynn yet, and it seemed Marlena was keeping her eldest daughter’s confidence at least for a little while longer. Lynn was still a bit young to fully grasp the complexities of the situation; though she would be rather excited about becoming an aunt soon.

Holly would tell her once things sunk in a bit longer. It felt wrong to keep Lynn in the dark for too much longer, but it would probably be best to wait until she went home again to tell. It was only a couple more weeks, and many women didn’t tell anyone except their doctors that they were pregnant until they were well out of their first trimester. That didn’t mean she couldn’t hint at a surprise for her sister when she wrote back.

Holly picked up her mother’s letter, taking a moment to marvel at the fact that Marlena had even been able to get all of the pages folded on each other to sort of fit into the envelope. Holly tried to tug the pages out, but found them to be quite stuck in the small envelope. She eventually resorted to tearing the too-small envelope to free the letter.

The letter started as an outpouring of love and support from Marlena; words of comfort and sympathy that brought tears to Holly’s eyes. She had to stop after the first page and find a tissue to dry her eyes. Eventually the letter turned to Marlena’s excitement to be a grandmother. She spent a couple pages just writing out possible plans for Holly and the baby; what they could do for a nursery, and where they would go to buy furniture and other things. Finally, about halfway through the letter, things turned medical.

It was expected. Marlena had been a practicing midwife for over twenty years. She had no shortage of things to say in that department. Holly gave a flip through the rest of the letter and saw it mostly stayed on the same topic. Smiling slightly, she settled into a more comfortable position and began reading.

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

Frank knocked softly on Holly’s door before stepping in. His niece had been pretty quiet over the last hour. He knew she’d be reading her letter from Marlena, but he didn’t think it would take that long to read.

“Holly? It’s getting time to head into town. Oh-” Frank stopped short.

Holly was fast asleep. She clutched a few pages of the letter to her chest as she slept, but the others had been set beside her on the bed. Frank walked over and shook Holly’s shoulder gently.

“Holly, it’s time for dinner.”

She muttered something unintelligible, and turned away from him, snuggling deeper into her pillow. Frank breathed a laugh. Holly had been putting in good work over the last couple days; she deserved a good rest. He’d leave a note for her in case she woke up, but he didn’t think she would mind much being left alone for the evening – if she even woke up before tomorrow morning. Frank would just cook something quick for dinner then, and head up to the _Grill_ later.

He gently tugged the pages of the letter from Holly’s hands and gathered up the ones on the bed. He stacked them together and set them on the bedside table. He tucked a blanket up over Holly’s shoulders and turned to switch off the light.

His eyes fell on the letter again – or perhaps it was more appropriate to call it a book. Marlena had certainly had a lot to say. He would normally never consider reading a private letter, but his curiosity got the better of him. Frank’s eyes glanced down at the page and the first words he read were ‘lightning crotch.’

That in itself was enough to dissuade him from reading any further. There were just some things that weren’t any of his business knowing.

He flicked off the lamp and left Holly to her dreaming.

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Carrie would never say that she _dreaded_ Saturday evenings. They were the _Garden Grill’s_ busiest nights. She loved seeing full tables and catching up with friends and neighbors and listening to the musical entertainment. She loved the rush of being busy all evening and then having a chance to relax and unwind with her friends afterwards. But as the dinner hour crept closer she began to feel something close to a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

It was that silly bet. She knew Wayne was going to have charmed the answers out of Holly by this point and he would saunter in with a smug expression on his handsome face and take her hard earned money. Darn it, _she_ wanted to collect on that bet! She had thought that tea with Holly and Lisette was a surefire way to find the information she needed and she had been so distracted she had completely forgotten to ask.

Brad was too busy to offer much sympathy to her plight. He simply shrugged and said, “That’s what you get for betting on strangers, babe. Hey, slide that mixing bowl over.”

Knowing Brad wasn't going to be particularly sympathetic until after closing tonight, Carrie took up her station behind the bar, rolling extra silverware sets and waiting for the first diners of the night to stroll in. The weather had been beautiful these last couple days; tonight was going to be busy.

True to her predictions, the house was packed early that evening. Marco had to tend the bar full time as Brad was constantly busy back in the kitchen. Carrie barely had a moment to breathe between taking orders and topping off drinks. At least, it was a good enough reason to ignore Wayne and his probably smug face when he and Ford sauntered into the restaurant. The only open seats were at the bar, so they took them and were given over to Marco for the evening.

Carrie found that a good enough reason to avoid Wayne until later in the evening. She was further distracted when a group of five women came into the restaurant. She hurried to the door, ready to apologize, but there weren’t any more open tables. The women were all locals, and Carried recognized them. They were part of what she and Miranda joking referred to as Wayne’s fan club – all (mostly) single women who spent their free time pining after Westown’s most eligible bachelor. Carrie couldn’t blame them, Wayne was polite and charming – compliments came as easy as breathing to the postman – but he hadn’t shown any real interest in dating any of the women in town. Every couple of months, he treated a lady to a lunch of coffee date, but nothing ever seemed to come from it.

The women were clearly disappointed, but understanding. They didn’t feel like waiting for a table to clear out, so they decided to walk down to Lulukoko for a beach-side dinner instead.

That was one of the better parts of living in such close-knit communities, Carrie thought, most folks didn’t bother stirring up trouble and they were open to a sudden change of plans. Before she and Brad had returned to Westown, she had dealt with her fair share of sour city folk. They always wanted to make a big deal out of a minor inconvenience because they knew if they threw a fit they would get something for free from it.

The only thing grown adults throwing tantrums like children deserved was a smack upside the back of their head and a long time out.

Carrie would never go back to working in big city restaurants. Not now that she owned her own restaurant now and had the power to remove unruly customers from the place if necessary. That was a muscle that she fortunately never had to flex, and she probably never would have to knowing this town.

She hadn’t realized how late it had become until Frank wandered in just before show time. Alone. Where was Holly?

Carrie kept the confusion from her face as she stepped across the room to direct the farmer to an empty seat at the bar. “No Holly tonight?” she asked casually.

“No, she wanted to spend an evening in tonight.”

“She feelin’ alright?” Carrie hoped that having Holly trek into town for tea through hadn’t caught her a cold. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her, and she would feel awful if Holly had gotten sick because of her.

“Oh yes! She’s just tired. She crashed early.” Frank assured her with a laugh. “I saw you had her for tea earlier this week. Thanks for that, Carrie; I think she really enjoyed it.”

Carrie beamed. “Oh it was my pleasure! I think Miranda has already snagged a table for your group.” She gestured across the restaurant. Someone from a nearby table called out to Carrie. “Duty calls. We’ll chat later, Frank!”

As Carrie went to tend to her customers, she couldn’t help but look over at Wayne. The postman had caught sight of Frank and only Frank. The disappointment on his face was quite clear, and Carrie felt a thrill of exhilaration.

Wayne hadn’t won the bet yet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between posting the last chapter and this one I learned that I'm going to be an Aunt! My SIL has been sharing all of her "fun" symptoms, and I can confirm that Lightning Crotch is 100% real. I couldn't resist putting it in here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and Happy New Year! I hope 2018 ended on a good note for you all!
> 
> Mine ended with a very unexpected work trip (as in, they asked if I was able to go on Friday at 2, booked my plane tickets on Friday at 4, and I was on a plane on Sunday morning, unexpected) during which I pulled the short straw and got to for 12-hour night shifts. It wasn't fun, but they got me home in time to celebrate the holidays with my family and I got a fat bonus for making the emergency trip, so I guess it wasn't all bad.
> 
> Of course, that trip gave me almost no time to work on writing, but as luck would have it, I've had this chapter mostly ready since I started this story.
> 
> My writing resolution this year is to post at least one chapter of each of my ongoing stories each month, so baring and unforeseen distractions, we should see a regular posting schedule for this story.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! We finally get to meet the Lulukoko gang! And next chapter we're going to head off to Tsuyukusa!
> 
> -Becks

**Chapter 8**

 

Holly couldn't help but scream as the blissfully warm water of her shower suddenly plunged into arctic temperatures. She was rinsing the shampoo from her hair and leapt to the far end of the shower with soap bubbles still tricking down her face. She swore sharply, wiping away the soap from her eyes and tested the water her foot. Maybe the cold shock was just temporary.

It wasn't.

Holly frowned at the stream of water. There was still shampoo in her hair, she had to rinse it out, but there was no way she would finish her shower. Arching her back in a way that would make a yogi proud, she ran her hair under the frigid stream as long as she could stand it. Then, holding her hair up with one hand to keep any icy drops from falling down her back, she stepped out and immediately wrapped her hair up in a towel. She turned off the offending stream and toweled herself off, trying to rub some warmth back into her skin. Once she was dry, Holly wrapped herself up in her bathrobe and stuck her head out the bathroom door.

"Uncle Frank?"

No response, he must be outside. Holly hurried to her room and got dressed. She peeked out her window. No Frank in the fields; he must be in the barn. Holly brushed out her hair, tangled and brittle without its accustomed dose of conditioner, and pulled on a sweater. She shoved her feet into her boots at the door and went to hunt down her uncle.

Frank was out in the paddock feeding his livestock treats. The animals seemed to rather enjoy playfully competing with each other for the last few in his hand. He divvied them out to the sheep and turned to Holly.

"That was a quick shower," he commented absently while a sheep nosed into his pocket for another treat.

"It was a cold one too." Holly reached over to pat the sheep who had turned to nose at her through the fence in search for more treats. "Something's wrong with the water heater."

"Aw crud," Frank sighed before hoisting himself over the fence. "I knew it was on its last leg, but I'd hoped it would last until the new one arrived. Let's go see if it's the pilot light."

She followed Frank around the back of the house to a little lean-to. Inside sat the round, metal body of an old, decrepit-looking water heater. It had probably been there since the house had been built. Frank squeezed in and crouched down, peering at something Holly couldn't see.

"Well, the pilot's still lit." Frank patted the side of the heater. "Old thing just couldn't wait a few more days." He stood up and stepped out of the shed. "Y'ever had to fix a doused pilot light, Holly?"

She shook her head no.

"Well, go in there and take a look. Usually that's the root of most heater issues. If the light goes out that means there's no gas burning to heat the water."

Holly crouched down and looked at the heater. Through a little eye-level window she could see a small orange flame burning quite happily.

"Now if the pilot goes out you can try relighting it, sometimes a hiccup just stops the gas flow. If that doesn't work, ya call a handyman." Frank paused to chuckle somewhat ruefully. "I learned that lesson the hard way a few years back and had to live without hot water for three months until the replacement part shipped in. I'm pretty sure Ludus has put more care into this old heater than its makers did."

Holly stood up and brushed off her hands. She didn't know Ludus, but she supposed she would meet him soon enough when he came out to fix the water heater.

"Of course, it doesn't look like the pilot is our problem today. I'll take a whack at it and see if there's any other tricks I can try," Frank sighed a little in exasperation. "But if that don't work, we'll just have to wash the old fashioned way for a little bit. I ordered a new heater a couple months ago; it can't be too long until the delivery."

 

Holly didn't particularly care for the "old fashioned way" of bathing. Waiting for large pots of water to heat was slow, and carrying it into the bathroom to dump into a semi-rusty old aluminum wash tub was cumbersome. Plus there wasn't a lot to be done for temperature control aside from adding cool water and hoping you hit the sweet spot and didn't overshoot. She didn't feel like she got properly clean just using a wash cloth and soap. She completely skipped washing her hair, figuring it could handle going a couple days unwashed.

So when Wayne came around Frank's farm with the mail and a message about a delivery a few days after the heater died, she was quite delighted. The new heater had finally come in! Plans were made to get Ludus from Lulukoko and install the water heater that afternoon. Wayne volunteered to tell the handyman, since he had some mail deliveries to the town anyway.

Frank left for town after lunch, assuring Holly she didn't need to come. "Doc Ford would probably skin us if he saw us lettin' you help carry the heater anyway," he laughed.

Holly rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. She settled herself on the porch with one of Frank's farming books – animal husbandry and basic veterinary care – and spent the time enjoying the warming sun. Frank was right; Spring came early in these parts. This time of the year, they still would have snow in the city. She wasn't going to complain one bit about an early Spring. After about an hour, she heard cheery voices coming up the path. The water heater was in a handcart, with Uncle Frank and Wayne supporting from the sides. Someone pushed from behind, presumably Ludus, hidden by the bulk of the heater.

As they approached, Holly heard laughter as Wayne told a particularly good joke. Holly set her book aside as they approached the porch.

"Let's set it down for a minute," Frank suggested.

They maneuver the water heater upright and stable as the cart came to a stop. Frank stepped back, rubbing his shoulder. "Ya'know, it wasn't that heavy at the post office," he joked before turning around. "Ludus, let me introduce you to my niece, Holly. She's been visiting for a few weeks."

A man a few years older than Holly stepped around the water heater. His light clothes and darkened skin spoke of long days in the tropical sun, and the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders showed he did a lot of physical labor. A small, easy smile crossed his lips and his long, dark blue hair was pulled back from his face.

"Aloha, Holly. Nice to meet you," Ludus said, waving first and then holding out his hand. Holly returned the handshake, her own small hand almost completely enveloped in his warm, rough hand. "Have you made it down to Lulukoko yet? I don't think I've seen you around."

"Uh, no, not yet," Holly admitted somewhat sheepishly. "I've been spending most of my time around Westown."

"Well, if you make it down there before you go, find me at _Relacion_ – that's my shop – I'll give you the grand tour. Ask anyone, they'll show you where to go. Lulukoko's nice if you want some warmth and sunshine," he finished with a small smirk that hinted at a long running joke between friends. Wayne's good-natured eye roll confirmed as much.

"Should we start on the heaters?" Frank suggested, "They're not going to swap themselves out. And I, for one, would really enjoy some hot water tonight."

They hoisted up the new heater and carted it around to the back of the house. The next couple hours were busy with removing the older, much heavier heater and putting the new one into place. Holly tried to help, but with four sets of hands, there wasn't much to help with. The lean-to hardly had space for one person, much less two, which is where they ended up when Ludus had to reattach a hard to reach line while someone handed him hardware and tools. Along with a chorus of jokes and light conversation, the afternoon passed in good spirits.

Wayne left for Westown first, biding Holly and the others a good evening and taking his mail cart with him. Ludus stayed a little longer to make sure the new heater actually worked. Holly thought she might sing when hot water ran from the kitchen tap. The old heater was too heavy for Ludus to carry away by hand. So he left with the promise to return in the morning with a cart. He put too much work into the old one to not try and salvage some of the newer replacement parts.

Holly and Frank waved him off with their gracious thanks. "Ya know," Frank said, after Ludus had disappeared around a bend in the road, "you really should take some time to visit the other towns while you're out here. They all have their own charms. It's like visiting a different country in each town."

"Maybe," Holly said with a noncommittal shrug. Her energy and motivation varied from day to day, and she wasn't sure she was really up to crossing the mountains to see other towns. She was only going to be here for a couple more weeks after all.

 

True to his word, Ludus arrived on the farm the next morning around eleven with an empty cart. He chatted amicably with Frank as they loaded the old water heater onto the cart. Holly hid in the house. She had unintentionally slept in again and was finishing a very late breakfast. She wasn't really feeling up to polite conversations and small talk. Ludus would be gone soon enough; he had a job to do right? Much to her dismay, Frank and Ludus' conversation dragged on. Holly was in the middle of cleaning up her dishes when she heard her name being mentioned. A second later, Frank was poking his head through the front door.

"Holly, you wanna come out here for a sec?"

She sighed, but walked through the door her uncle was holding open for her. She plastered a smile on her face and directed it at the handyman. "Morning, Ludus."

"Ludus here just offered to accompany you to Lulukoko for the day," Frank explained, with a slight mischievous, meddling smile pulling at his lips.

"Your uncle said you didn't have much planned for today, and it's my day off. I'd be more than happy to show you around, if you'd like."

"But I was going to help-" Holly began protesting, turning to her uncle.

"Nah, don't worry about it." Frank gestured dismissively. "I really appreciate all your help, Holly, but I've been runnin' this farm for decades. I can handle a day of work by myself." He nudged her and winked. "You go on and explore Lulukoko. You're supposed to be on vacation anyway, not doin' chores."

Holly was trapped and her protests died on her lips. Frank had just pushed her towards a new opportunity to distract her from her grief, and Ludus was standing there waiting. He had offered to use his day off to show her around his hometown. She couldn't say 'no' without being extremely rude. And well … Frank had said Lulukoko was warm and tropical, and today Westown was overcast and chilly. "Alright," she said with a defeated shrug. "Let me get my coat."

"Excellent!" Frank smiled widely. "Just have her back by six."

 

**XXXXXXXXXX**

 

"Iluka, look, there's a sale on mangos." Siluka's voice raised just enough to key her twin into her excitement.

"Ooo, go pick up a couple dozen." Iluka looked away from the fish she was cheerfully haggling with Caolila over. It was an off season catch, so the fish seller was, expectedly, trying to jack up the price. The priestess was talking her down to more reasonable prices. Not that she wanted to cheat Caolila out of her fair profits, but Iluka was a businesswoman too, and haggling was Lulukoko tradition.

Those who moved into the village often said they truly felt like part of the community when they spent half an hour haggling over fish with Caolila. The woman was a force to behold, but Iluka had a few tricks of her own. One glance showed that Caolila's usually sharp and bright orange aura was getting a little dim around the edges. She was tired and probably hadn't had time to herself in a long while. Offering to watch her little monsters – ah, children – for a night would seal the deal. Kids weren't her favorite, but she'd probably be able to talk Ludus into doing most of the hard work.

Iluka named her price and threw in the offer to babysit. Caolila eyed her shrewdly, as if trying to see if Iluka would attempt to worm her way out of the babysitting. But in the end, the siren song of a few hours of peace and quiet with her husband won her over.

"Deal!"

Iluka handed over the money that was due while Caolila wrapped the fish up in some paper. Siluka reappeared at her elbow with a sack of mangos nestled in her arms.

"Ludus has a new friend," Siluka commented, waving vaguely down the beach.

"A friend?" Caolila leaned as far over her booth counter as she could to follow Siluka's point.

Trundling up the beach, pushing a hand cart with an old, rusted water tank on it was Ludus and a young woman with blond hair. She was dressed warmly, but had draped her coat over her arms – must have come from Westown or Tsuyukusa. She seemed to be chatting amicably with Ludus as he pushed the cart.

"Must be a customer. Ludus doesn't have friends," Iluka joked, looking to her twin for the smile of a well-placed joke. Siluka wasn't looking at her though.

"Oh," the other priestess gasped softly. "Her aura..."

Iluka turned her attention back to the new girl. She was close enough that Iluka could get a peek at her aura. It was dark. Darker than she'd ever seen in a person. It was such a heavy, oppressive blue, it was almost black. Iluka reached over and gently took her sister's hand. They had seen grief and depression in auras before... but never that much.

"Poor girl," Iluka muttered.

"What? What do you see?" Caolila asked, eyeing the approaching pair suspiciously. "Is she hurt?"

"She's suffering a heavy loss," Siluka explained. She turned to her sister. "We should make her some tea."

"She might just be a customer," Iluka reminded her.

"Ludus doesn't usually introduce customers," Caolila pointed out as the pair made a beeline for the fish stand.

"Act normal," Iluka hissed before plastering her kindest service smile on her face. "Aloha, Ludus!"

"Aloha, Iluka." He turned to the girl beside him. "This is Holly. She's Frank's niece and visiting the area for a couple weeks. Holly, this is Iluka, Siluka, and Caolila."

"Aloha, Holly, it's nice to meet you." Iluka waved and then offered her hand to shake.

Holly took it, smiling brightly. "Hello, it's nice to meet you all too."

While she shook with Siluka and Caolila, Iluka studied Holly. They were close in age, maybe separated by a year or two at most. And she was very friendly and _very_ good at faking her cheer. Maybe Hinata could take some acting lessons from her.

"I figured I would bring her to see Lulukoko while she's here, considering winter in Westown is miserable, yeah?" Ludus said after introductions were made.

Holly laughed lightly. "It's actually worse where I come from. But I do love all of this warmth and sunshine."

"That sounds awful." Iluka shivered dramatically. "Hey, we've got to get these groceries home, but stop by our place in a little bit and have some tea, yeah? We'd love to chat."

"Tea sounds nice, thank you." Holly said, nodding enthusiastically.

Iluka shot Ludus a look that said 'you better bring her around or else' before picking up her fish, linking arms with Siluka and walking away.

"I haven't forgotten about you promise to babysit!" Caolila called after them.

Iluka waved to indicate that she heard. Ludus and Holly stayed at the fish stand to chat for a little longer.

By the time the twins had prepared the fish for dinner and determined what to make with the mangos for _Carosello_ Ludus was knocking on the door with Holly. Iluka let them in and settled them around the table while Siluka put the kettle on.

Talking with Holly was easy. She was eager to learn about their lives in Lulukoko, and she talked happily about the city she came from. It was all amicable small talk between acquaintances, but it never seemed to drag.

"Is tea a big cultural thing here?" Holly asked while Siluka served up steaming cups of her special spiced chai tea.

"Hmm, not necessarily." Siluka mused. "We do like our chai though."

"Okay, I was just wondering. Ludus' grandmother, ah… Tototara offered to make some tea as well. I know in some countries, serving tea to guests is important."

"I told her you two had already offered tea," Ludus added.

"It's just to chase away that Westown winter chill." Iluka said, as she wrapped her hands around her own cup. It wasn't entirely truthful, but she wasn't so tactless as to go digging into this strangers personal business _right_ off the bat. "So Holly, do you travel a lot?"

"Sort of," Holly paused to blow on her tea to cool it. "This smells amazing, I've never had tea like this before," she added. She took a sip and affirmed that it was as delicious as it smelled before continuing her original thought. "My dad travels a lot for work, and usually that turns into us moving with him every couple years. I've lived in a lot of places, but not for very long."

That opened up a long conversion about where Holly had lived before – for such a young woman, she was remarkably well traveled. Holly never dodged questions, or shunted conversation topics, which was irritating to Iluka. She wanted to get some kind of clue as to what was grieving Holly so much, but the visitor didn't even act like she was trying to hide how much she was hurting. It really wasn't any of Iluka's business, but damn it she wanted to know! Juicy gossip was almost as valuable as gold in the towns' markets.

Eventually the clock struck four, and Holly jumped a bit. "Oh, it's getting late. I probably better head back to Westown or Uncle Frank is going to worry."

Ludus stood up. "I'll walk you back. That path can be tricky if you're not used to it."

Holly thanked him and then turned to the twins. "Thank you for the tea. It was delicious."

"Any time. Please come back to see us if you have time before you head home," Iluka said.

"Yeah, if you stop by _Carosello_ , we'll treat you to some ice cream," Siluka offered.

Holly laughed, "You sure now how to tempt a girl. I'll try and make it back down." She waved and then stepped out of the house with Ludus.

The twins waited approximately two seconds before they hurried to change. They still had to pray at the temple tonight, and they _had_ to talk to Tototara before it got too late and she retired for the night.

The elder was at the ruins when they arrived; an off schedule visit. "Mind if I join your dancing?" the elder asked.

"Not at all, Nana," Iluka said. They fell into place before the ancient stone altar and began going through the familiar steps. Their voices harmonized as they chanted the prayers. As they finished, Tototara added an extra intention privately.

"I was pleased to hear you invited that young woman to have tea this afternoon," the old woman said as they turned away from the altar.

"We had to," Siluka said.

"Once we saw her aura..." Iluka began but trailed off. "What's wrong with her, Nana? I've never seen an aura so dark before."

"I have," the elder said mournfully, "but only a few times in all my years."

She didn't say anything for a long moment. Iluka let her concentrate on getting down the stone steps in the gathering dark before prodding her. "Nana, what does it mean?"

Tototara sighed softly. She had lived too long to hide important topics behind euphemisms; as much as she didn't wish to speak of such things. "That is the aura of someone living with the deepest of despair, my dears."

"What?!" That hardly fit the woman they had spent the afternoon talking with.

"But she was so cheerful." Siluka protested, having as much difficulty reconciling the Holly they met with her aura.

Tototara stopped and bowed her head. "When I was about your age, one of the villagers lost her young daughter to a sudden sickness. Her loss was devastating to the village, and it hit her mother hardest of all. But we mourned her and as time passed it seemed that the grief had been processed by all, even if her mother's aura remained dark. Loss can darken a soul for a lifetime. The mother had always been a kind and giving woman, oftentimes giving from her own home if there was a need. Nobody in the village found it strange when she began giving freely to the other villagers; we saw it as a return to normalcy. Then, one night she just walked into the sea. When we went into her home it was practically bare. She'd given away every possession and nobody had noticed … she hid her intentions so well."

"Holly's not going to… do anything drastic is she?" Iluka asked in a strained whisper.

"Not necessarily," Tototara shook her head. "Some with that darkness in their aura fight it. The despair is present, but they never succumb to it." She smiled warmly. "One of my closest friends had the same darkness for as long as I knew her, and she died contentedly in her sleep at the age of one hundred and two. A lot of it depends on the individual and the help they receive from friends and strangers. The woman who walked into the sea never talked about her grief, nobody realized what was happening until it was too late."

"But Holly's only visiting her uncle for a couple weeks. What can we do to help her?" Siluka asked. Iluka was been wondering the same thing. Holly wasn't a villager or neighbor, she was a tourist. What could they possibly do to help?

"Be kind," Tototara stated simply. "Your presence in her life may be temporary, but you never know how much good a kind word can do for someone in pain."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's the Gordon Ramsey meme? Finally some happy damn chapters!
> 
> This chapter exists because A. Pony Express Wayne gives me life B. At the time I was plotting out this part of the story I was listening to a lot of the Thrilling Adventure Hour and Sparks Nevada gave me a mighty need to make Westown even more western C. I just wanted to insert some pretty horses because my inner 10-year-old demanded it.
> 
> It's a bit of a shorter chapter because the second half is being non-cooperative, and my muse has taken an unexpected vacation off to Kingdom Hearts land so... *shrug* My second half of January was a crash course through the 7 games I missed between playing KH1 and KH2 in middle school and the release of KH3. (Oh god it was so much story to absorb over a week and a half) I'm still a little mentally stuck in that universe...  
> Hopefully my muse will come back soon, so we can finally finish up the next chapter and meet the Tsuyukusa crew!
> 
> Anywho, enjoy the chapter!  
> -Becks

Chapter 9

 

Boredom and beautiful weather finally drove Holly back into Westown on her own volition. Another week had passed and Spring had officially arrived. The weather had been nothing but compliant to the change of season and Holly couldn’t stand the thought of letting another day pass cooped up on the farm.

Frank had spent the last few days tilling his large fodder and wheat fields with an old fashioned plow and a pair of oxen. Holly had initially been frightened of the massive creatures when she had been introduced to them, but the last few weeks had proven that Ferdinand and Babe were about as threatening as sleepy old dogs. They may weigh a ton each, but Holly barely had to lay a hand on their shoulders to help Uncle Frank guide them to the yolk.

Plowing all of Frank’s land took the better part of a week, if the weather cooperated, and it was mostly a one-person job. After watching her uncle and the oxen toil out in the fields for a couple days, Holly couldn’t help but ask why Frank didn’t use a tractor. Surely it could get the work done in a fraction of the time.

“Well, sure, it’s faster,” Frank admitted as he let the oxen loose in the paddock to rest after a long day of work. “But it ain’t really cost effective for these parts.”

“What do you mean?” Holly was doing the math in her head. The upkeep for a machine used a few times a year had to cost less than feeding and caring for two living animals in the long run. Westown was isolated, but not _that_ isolated, right?

Frank took a moment to fan himself with his hat and wipe his sweaty brow before he continued to explain. “When I was a little boy, Westown was a mining town, things were really boomin’ and we had all sorts of people and resources pouring in to feed the mining industry. But when the mines dried up, the miners left and they took their industries with them. We were lucky enough to keep the gas and electricity out in these parts, but I guess getting a reliable supply of fuel for equipment didn’t pan out.”

Houdini had wandered over for some attention while the two of them talked, and Frank obliged by giving the cow a good scratch behind her ears. “I guess after a while folks just decided that keepin’ our animals was the best way to keep workin’. If you can provide for them, they’ll provide for you.  As an additional bonus, the air and water stay clean and clear.”

“Huh,” Holly mused, reaching out to pat the cow. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Frank chuckled. “Sure, it’s slower and old fashioned, but it’s a system that had worked for thousands of years. No sense in bendin’ over backwards to make a change you don’t need.”

Even with another dose of new perspective, Holly still could only find watching the distant figures of Frank and the oxen cross back and forth across the fields for so long before interminable boredom set in. So she told Frank where she was going and set off to town shortly after breakfast.

The market square of Westown was packed and bustling. Holly had expected there to be plenty of people out and about in the fine weather, but she hadn’t expected to walk into a hive of activity. The center of all the commotion seemed to be a large wagon. Her curiosity thoroughly piqued, Holly worked her way into the crowd to see what all of the buzz was about.

People were jostling, trying to get packages to the wagon, but nobody seemed particularly harried about the process. Holly eventually worked to the front of the crowd and saw Wayne and Ethan taking care with each package handed to them and loading them into the wagon. Intrigued, but not wanting to get in the way, Holly stepped off to the side and waited for the crowd to die down.

It took the better part of the next twenty minutes, so Holly browsed around the market stalls in that time, but the crowd finally dispersed around wagon, save for a few stragglers with their packages. Holly left behind a display of Spring seeds and wandered back to the wagon. The last few women with packages were taking their sweet time handing over the parcels, keeping up a stream of idle chatter.

Ethan, perched in the back of the wagon, tutted and rolled his eyes as Wayne continued to chat with the ladies. He caught Holly’s eye and grimaced briefly, embarrassed to have been caught making faces. Holly shrugged and half-smiled, silently agreeing with the other postman’s sentiment. The women kept looping back through the same conversation, getting more flustered with each repetition. Wayne was being polite, but he clearly wasn’t reciprocating whatever crush these women had on him. Having to watch something like that _ad infinitum_ had to get old for Ethan.

After another minute of the back and forth exchange, Ethan cleared his throat loudly. “Ah, Wayne, looks like Alison’s bringin’ the horses out.”

Holly turned to look where Ethan was pointing. The owner of the animal shop was leading the largest horse Holly had ever seen towards the cart. It looked like a monster or a creature from a fairy tale! It certainly dwarfed the other two horses that were being led by the sheriff, and they appeared to be of normal size and stature.

Wayne wished the women a nice day and finally took their packages. “Oh, Miss Holly, pleasure to see you!” he exclaimed, handing the packages off to Ethan. “What brings you around today?”

Holly tore her eyes off the massive horse and tried to remember why she had come into town. “Oh, I was just taking a walk and decided to see what all of the commotion was about.”

“Oh this?” Wayne gestured to the wagon behind him. “It’s just our monthly mail run. There’s a handful or really outlyin’ communities and farms in the area and their folks don’t get into town much, if ever. So on the last weekend of every month, we load up any mail and deliveries for those folks and cart it out to them. The sheriff comes along to see if there’s any peace keepin’ that needs doing. And Ford’ll do health checks.”

“Oh, neat, and you do it all in one weekend?”

“Yeah, it takes a few days just to get out where we need to and see everyone that needs seein’. We actually didn’t get to go last month; a big snowstorm rolled in the day we were supposed to set off. It’s a heavy load this month.”

“When will you be back?” Holly asked distractedly, watching Alison hitch the massive horse to the cart more than anything.

“Monday or Tuesday at the latest. If you need anything, Ethan’ll be mannin’ the post office in my absence.” He followed Holly’s eyes to the horse and smiled knowingly. “You haven’t seen many draft horses have you?”

“I didn’t know they made horses that big,” Holly admitted weakly with a nervous chuckle. Her last experience with a horse had been a pony ride at some other girl’s tenth birthday party and well… her ride out to Westown too, but Holly hadn’t paid much attention to the horses pulling her coach then.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Alison.”

“I don’t want to get in the way,” Holly insisted, as Wayne tried to lead her closer to the giant horse and his owner. The last thing she wanted to do was be underfoot while they were trying to get ready to head out of town.

“No worries, we’re still waitin’ on Ford, and Alison’s a sweet gal.”

Holly remembered Alison from her first tour of Westown a few weeks back. She was a hearty woman in her late forties who was currently cradling the giant’s head near her face, nuzzling it, and talking softly to the horse. She hardly seemed embarrassed to be caught baby-talking the horse when Wayne introduced Holly to her.

“Oh, of course, Frank’s niece! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She shook Holly’s hand with a firm, blistered and work roughened grip.

“And you,” Holly replied. She couldn’t help but jump a bit when the draft horse snorted abruptly.

Alison laughed, warm and good natured. “Don’t spend much time ‘round horses, huh?”

“Last time I saw one I was eleven,” Holly admitted sheepishly.

“Well, don’t be frightened of ol’ Gaspard here,” Alison reached up and caught the horse’s bridle and brought his head closer to Holly, “He’s sweet as a kitten. Go ahead and pet him if you’d like.” Alison ran her hand up and down the horse’s nose.

“O-okay.” Holly slowly brought her hand up to the horse.  It hovered above him for a moment while she quietly said, “Hello, Gaspard.” Then, with a light brush of her fingers, she stroked his nose. When the horse didn’t immediately panic, she grew more confident and mimicked Alison’s motions. Gaspard’s snout was warm, soft, and velvety. He blinked his large, black eyes at her and seemed to lean into the touch a little more.

“That’s a good boy,” Alison said, giving her horse a good scratch on his forehead. “You’re lookin’ forward to this trip aren’t you? You haven’t had any fun in two months, have you?”

Holly giggled breathily and continued to stroke the horse. “He’s so beautiful,” she commented. He was a lovely soft, dappled gray with white socks on his legs and a white streak running down his nose. “Do you keep a lot of horses?”

“Oh, a good handful,” Allison said. “Some drafts like Gaspard for when there’s heavy work needs done. And some of the lighter, faster horses for single riders. Myrtle and Mindy over there,” she nodded to the other saddled up horses that Wayne and Sheriff Wyatt were checking over, “are my trekkers. They can keep pace with Gaspard all day. And this guy,” Allison gave Gaspard’s flank a hearty pat, “Never runs out of energy. He’d happily pull the mail wagon all day and night if his riders were so inclined.”

Holly had more to say, but her thoughts were interrupted by the thud of a heavy crate being dropped into the back of the wagon accompanied by the clink of glass.

“Be careful, please!” Ford snapped, “There is medicine and medical equipment in there.”

“Sorry, Doc,” said one of the pair of teenagers who had helped carry down a few crates from the clinic. He and his friend slid their second crate onto the wagon with a much gentler touch. Ford set down his own crate of supplies for them to load up.

“Mornin’ Ford!” Wayne called out. “You ready to head out?”

“As ready as I ever am,” Ford muttered at a volume that Wayne couldn’t hear, but Holly and Alison heard quite clearly. He swung his medical bag onto the seat of the wagon and only then saw the two women standing with the horse. His eyes widened and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, clearly not intending to have been heard. “Ah, Holly, Alison, nice day, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” Alison replied with a knowing smile. “The weather should be clear for the weekend.”

“Be thankful for small blessings, I suppose,” Ford sighed.

Alison continued smiling. “Still don’t care for the open trail much, huh Doc?”

“Of the many aspects of living in this area, I must admit it is not one of my favorites.” Ford approached the front of the horse and gave the beast a tentative pat on his neck. “At least Gaspard here is an amenable companion.”

“I’ve got a yearling who needs cart training, if you’d prefer a challenge,” Alison joked.

Ford flashed a strained smile. “I think I will leave that task to your expertise.”

Wayne rounded from the back of the wagon. “Everythin’s tied down Ford. Wyatt wants to go, says we’re burnin’ daylight.”

“Time to saddle up,” Alison suggested, stepping back from Gaspard. Holly followed her to stay out of the way. “Enjoy your weekend, boys!”

“And you, Alison, Holly,” Ford said, before he hoisted himself up into the driver’s seat of the wagon with a sigh. He took up the reigns and with a gentle flick, Garpard was following the sheriff and his horse out of town at a trot.

Wayne was just a few seconds behind them. He swung up into the saddle with a smooth, easy motion. “I’ll see you in a few days, ladies,” he said, with a tip of his hat, and then with a couple clicks of encouragement to the horse, was trotting after the wagon.

Once they were out the town gate, Alison turned to Holly. “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but I gotta hop back to the store.”

“Of course, it was nice to meet you too,” Holly said, and before she could raise her hand to wave, Alison was pushing through the market crowd to get back to her stall.  Holly’s hand fell to her side and she looked around for a moment. With Wayne and Ford gone, she decided to walk up to the _Garden Grill_ or _Thousand Bouquets_ to see if Carrie or Lisette had some free time. She remembered Lisette’s offer to give her a tour of her greenhouses and the thought quite excited Holly.

She trekked up the stairs and found that tier of town to be just as busy as the market. Holly peeked into the restaurant. It was empty, but Holly could faintly hear voices and the clatter of work coming from the kitchen. Undoubtedly the restaurant would be full of the lunch crowd in a couple hours, and there had to be a ton of prep work needed done before that. Holly stepped back out and walked up the street. She didn’t even bother trying to get into the flower shop. It was packed with customers and Holly could see Lisette was up to her elbows in bouquets and seeds. She imagined that Miranda’s store would be just as busy and didn’t even bother checking.

Holly heaved a sigh and stepped off the wooden sidewalk and across to the fence. She could look out over most of Westown from this vantage point. For such a small town, it was awful busy, and yet, there wasn’t much for Holly. What to do? She didn’t want to spend another day sitting around the farmhouse doing nothing.

Holly drummed her fingers on the fence post while she scanned the town searching for something to keep her occupied. Her eyes fell on the gate and road that lead east out of town. What was the other village called? Tsuyukusa?

Well, she’d already been to Lulukoko. She might as well complete her tour of the mountain villages.


End file.
